Island of Mystery and Death
by Sly M. Cogan
Summary: Allan Quatermain and the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen investigate a bizzare string of killings and uncover a dark plot by the nefarious Dr. Frankenstein.
1. The League Expanded

_Disclaimer - I own no rights to the titles, characters, and trademarks herein._

**_"ISLAND OF MYSTERY AND DEATH"_**

IN A DARK corner of London, tucked away on a corner of the river Thames, is a small, dark room. No one would ever guess it was there. Yet, within this room, technology existed that was well ahead of its time. Within this room, the safety of the world was discussed and ensured. Within this room, men and women gathered who were known to the rest of the world only as legends.

Allan Quatermain looked with wonder across the room, thoughtfully stroking his snow white beard. When he had first been asked to organize a special task-force known as "the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen", he had never expected the league to become its own government organization. Yet, amazingly enough, the league had turned into another proper English bureaucracy.

Several extraordinary ladies and gentlemen had gathered tonight for yet another board meeting. Besides the original members of Quatermain's league, there were several auxiliary members glancing anxiously towards their chairmen. These auxiliary members included Long John Silver, a reformed but once infamous bucaneer, Oliver Twist, a young thief skilled in the art of pick-pocketing, and Otto Lidenbrock, the famed professor and explorer who claimed to have conquered a voyage to the center of the earth.

"Again, I argue that it would be much too costly to allow for new additions to the Nautilus," droned Ebenezer Scrooge, the League's official treasurer. "How are we expected to protect the safety of the entire planet if we can not be thrifty, and if we become just as foolish as they are?"

"If you'll look at the notes from our previous meeting," argued Mrs. Hudson, the League's secretary and the fairest among them, "you will notice that we promised Captain Nemo ten thousand pounds to repair the damages his vessel incurred during his last mission. He still has some of that remaining, which he proposes he uses to make the requested additions to the vessel."

The board agreed with this movement, much to Old Scrooge's dismay.

Enough was enough. Finally, Quatermain rose, requesting permission from Mycroft Holmes, the League's president, to address the assembly. Holmes nodded.

"Extraordinary ladies and gentlemen," Quatermain began, "I think we have become so tied up with procedures and protocols that we are beginning to loose sight of what this League was founded for. We all have agreed that our unique talents would be used to protect the good and innocent across the globe. Those talents are now needed.  
"I received a very disturbing letter from an associate of mine. One John H. Watson, a doctor. I believe you're an old aquaintance of his, sir."

Holmes nodded silently.

"The letter is addressed from Germany. Dr. Watson has been on holiday there. It seems many strange and starkly terrifying events have been taking place, starting with the disappearance of corpses from various morgues and cemeteries across the country. These disappearances were thought to be bizarre, but nothing more. Until two policemen investigating the disappearances were found strangled to death.  
"Since then, several civilians, men, women, and children, have also met mysterious deaths. Some were discovered, victims of strangulation. Others simply have vanished. There also have been strange reports. Reports of creatures roaming the streets at night, described only as bearing the look of death. These reports have all been shrugged off.  
"Dr. Watson believes this string of mysterious events can be linked to a small, unnamed island, just off the coast of Eastern Europe. Though the island is supposedly uninhabited, there have been rumors of a man, or perhaps a woman, living on the island, who is referred to as evil, though no one knows who this man or woman is or what they are plotting. Men and women who try to come near the island vanish and are never seen again.  
"Ladies and gentlemen, I need a team. A team of men and women such as yourself who are courageous and steadfast enough to be relentless in the protection of innocent lives. This team will accompany me to Germany to investigate this strange mystery, and put these deaths to an end. Do I have any volunteers?"

At first, Quatermain's request was met only with silence. He carefully noted the look of fear on the faces of the League. Finally, a young boy with messy blonde hair stepped forward. Quatermain immediately recognized Tom Sawyer, his young protégé'.  
"I wish Aunt Polly could see me now," Sawyer muttered.

"We'll do it," came another voice. Pale, thin, and gangly, but undeniably fashionable and respectable, Henry Jekyll rose and stepped forward. A scientist and medic, Jekyll's life calling was to help those in need. However, Jekyll did possess a dark side. A side that only revealed itself when Jekyll morphed into his less contained altar-ego, Edward Hyde.

Following close behind Jekyll was Mina Harker, a young Englishwoman with a certain intangible something hanging about her. She walked in a mist of darkness and mystery.

Finally, the bold and mighty figure of Captain Nemo, commander of the vessel Nautilus, moved forward, standing beside the other four.

"Are there no other volunteers?" asked Quatermain, disappointment in his voice.  
"Skinner!" called Sawyer. "Skinner, don't be a coward. Get up here."  
"Relax," came a mellow voice from nearby. "I was the first one up here. Not that anyone noticed."

Jekyll turned toward the voice of his old friend and fellow scientific anomaly, Rodney Skinner, the invisible man.  
"It's been a while since I've seen you at these meetings," whispered Jekyll.  
"Funny," replied Skinner. "It's been a while since I've seen myself, too."

Quatermain grinned and declared robustly, "Then the League is set, and the game is on!"

**A/N - _For those of you who have read this chapter previously, you're not going crazy. I revamped it ever so slightly to fit the period and style of LXG more appropriately._**


	2. Investigation

Dr. John Hamish Watson looked at his reflection in a glass window. Corpulent and gray-haired, Watson felt a sharp pang of the loss of his youth. No more was he the young, impressionable medic that enthusiastically played at being a detective. True, he was still far from having a foot in the grave. Yet, all the same, Watson hated having to accept the fact that he was growing old. 

Sighing, he stepped forward to meet the party of six lighting from the train at its station. He immediately recognized Allan Quatermain in the front. Watson had encountered Quatermain on several of his African expeditions. He enthusiastically clasped hands with the also-gray explorer before taking a cursory observation of Quatermain's companions. Watson attempted to use the talents his old mentor, Sherlock Holmes, had trained him in, but was able to come up with nothing striking. Until he noticed Skinner, a man with off-white skin showing on his face and hands, and everywhere else covered in black clothing and dark glasses. There was something incomplete about Skinner's appearance that caused Watson to momentarily reel back, though Watson quickly caught himself. He had seen much stranger things. The Hound of the Baskervilles, for one.

"I'm so glad you could make it," said Watson. He stepped towards the one lady in the group. "May I help you with your bags?"

"Thank you, doctor," said Mina. "But that won't be necessary."  
"There are many vacancies at my hotel," said Watson. "You should have no trouble making arrangements."  
"We'll worry about that later," said Quatermain. "Is there a place we can sit and talk?"

Alcohol hung in the air and loud music and shouting provided background as Watson and the League members took their seats at a rather large, round, wooden table.  
"Not a very sophisticated spot," apologized Watson, "but I'm afraid it's the only easily accessible place in town that will provide seating for seven people."  
"Are there any new developments since the letter you sent me?" asked Quatermain.  
"I'm afraid not," said Watson. "I have tried to conduct an investigation the way Sherlock Holmes taught me, but I am afraid I will never be able to succeed as he did." Sadness filled Watson's eyes at the memory of the master detective, whose death he had witnessed at Reichenbach Falls.  
"Mycroft sends his regards," Quatermain said gently.  
"Very decent of him," Watson replied.  
"What steps have you taken in your investigation?" said Tom Sawyer. Watson shook his head.  
"I haven't been able to do much," he said. "I talked to the surviving family members of the dead and missing. The ones that would talk. Those that witnessed the murders gave frighteningly detailed descriptions of the attackers. The details varied wildly from person to person, yet they all were strikingly similar. Bizarre creatures, in the shape of man but not quite human. All bearing the look of decay and death."  
"And what do you think about these descriptions?" asked Sawyer.  
"I don't know what to think," said Watson. "I've never seen one of these creatures for myself. I have only the descriptions from others. But, Holmes always told me, 'When the impossible is eliminated, whatever remaining, no matter how improbable, must be true.'"  
"What's the impossible?"  
"I don't know anymore," sighed Watson. "There is one item I did not mention in the letter. It concerns the disappearance of a friend and colleague of mine."  
"A violent disappearance?" asked Sawyer.  
"Not at all," said Watson. "Simply a fading into obscurity. About a month before the disappearances of bodies from the cemeteries and morgues, there was a disappearance of a science student. Victor Frankenstein was a young pupil of mine. He was a bright boy and a very enthusiastic learner. He was a bit of a free-spirited thinker, though. He was especially open- minded to the theories of the early alchemists. He was studying at a university in Ingolstadt. Never missed a single lesson. He then simply stopped appearing."  
"I know what that's like," muttered Skinner. Watson looked at him curiously.  
"You believe there's a connection between Frankenstein's disappearance and these other strange events?" asked Sawyer, quickly changing the subject.  
"I can't be certain," said Watson. "There's no real evidence to prove a link. I'm sure if you talk with the police, they will be much more help to you than I could ever be. I am willing to assist you, however, in whatever way I can."  
"Thank you, Dr. Watson," said Mina. "We'd be glad to accept any help you can give us."

> > > > > >

"What makes you think we need your cooperation?" asked Detective Schwartz when he was approached by Allan Quatermain. "On what authority are you here?"  
"Inspector Quatermain, Scotland Yard," said Quatermain.  
"Our German affairs can be of no interest to Scotland Yard, Inspector," insisted Schwartz.  
"On the contrary," argued Quatermain, "we are very afraid the magnitude of this mystery could reach England."  
"Your fear is unfounded," said Schwartz. "We Germans have this matter quite under control."  
"Then can you provide a name of a suspect?" asked Quatermain. Schwarts grimaced.  
"That is of no concern to you," he responded sourly.  
"I only wish to review the facts of the case," said Quatermain.  
"You are outside of your range of authority," argued Schwartz. "Thank you for your offer, but no thank you after all."  
"It is more than an offer," came a woman's voice. "It is an order. I'm Inspector Harker of Scotland Yard, and I'm leading the English side of this investigation."  
"But you are...," began Schwartz.  
"A specialist," interrupted Mina firmly. "The first of a new line of detectives, for Scotland Yard and for the rest of the world. It's a new place of power for women, and if you will not respect Inspector Quatermain's authority, I'm quite certain you will respect mine."  
"Yes, ma'am," said Schwartz, obviously flustered by Mina's speech. "This way, please."

As Schwartz lead the two to his office, Quatermain whispered to Mina, "I thought I told you to stay back with the rest. I can handle this."  
"It seems to me you could use some help," said Mina, softly but levelly. Quatermain looked at the air of power in Mina's face. He liked to think he had the ability to exert authority and leadership over others, but he could never have the natural powers of confidence and control Mina possessed.

"Late at night, a body was stolen from one of our morgues," said Schwartz. "Others followed on different nights. First, one at a time. Then, slowly, the amount grew. Soon, several morgues were being invaded at the same time. Officers Guhber and Olaf were in charge of the investigation to solve the disappearances. Their idea was to hide in one of the morgues and wait for the invaders to strike. Unfortunately, they soon joined the other corpses there."

"How were they murdered?" asked Mina.  
"Strangulation," said Schwartz. "The marks suggest human hands. The morgue robberies stopped then, but the kidnappings started. Husbands, wives, and children, taken from their own homes. Then Mr. Harold Fumer woke up to find his wife, Amelia, being dragged away. He claims he was able to scare off the attackers, but Amelia Fumer was already dead. Strangulation. Soon, more reports came in of men and women who arrived in time to frighten the murderers, but very rarely in time to save their loved ones."  
"You believe there is a connection between the invasions in the morgues and these kidnappings and murders?" asked Mina.  
"Certainly," said Schwartz. "We found the same black marks on all of these victims as we did on the necks of Guhber and Olaf. All suggest large, misshapen, human hands. Also, we found different pieces of decaying cloth at the scenes of the morgue robberies, kidnappings, and murders."  
"Were Fumer and the others who witnessed the attacks able to identify the attackers?" asked Quatermain.  
"Hardly," said Schwartz. "They've all gone mad. They claim the criminals responsible were not human. That they were the undead." He laughed, though neither Mina nor Quatermain found it funny.  
"Is it usual for mad men to all suggest the same hallucination?" asked Mina.  
"Quite," said Schwartz. "The power of suggestion. One of these lunatics thinks that his family has been killed by zombies, they all do."  
"What about Dr. Watson?" asked Quatermain. "Have you looked into any of his theories regarding the case?"

"That quack!" sneered Schwartz. "Police work is certainly not his business."  
"Then you don't believe this case has anything to do with the disappearance of Victor Frankenstein?"  
"Certainly not," said Schwartz. "There is nothing strange surrounding the disappearance of Victor Frankenstein. He is merely a university drop-out. This happens all the time."  
"We have no further questions, Detective," said Mina.

> > > > > >

Mina and Quatermain recounted the details of their investigation to the rest of the League.  
"What's our next step?" asked Sawyer.  
"I think Guhber and Olaf had the right idea," said Mina.  
"Except, the morgues are no longer the place to expect our adversaries' next move," said Quatermain. "We will need to patrol all of the streets."  
"Right idea?" said Sawyer. "Guhber and Olaf? But they're both dead!"  
"We do have an advantage," said Quatermain. "There are those among us less likely to be discovered." All eyes turned to one man.  
"Why's everyone looking at me?" whined Skinner.

> > > > > >

It was cold that night. That was Skinner's excuse for shivering. Not that anyone could see him shivering. One fact kept running through Skinner's head. Just because nobody could see him, that did not mean nobody could harm him.

Skinner looked towards the sky and watched as a flock of bats passed under the moonlight. He felt comforted knowing Mina was also on patrol that night.

A few moments passed of just waiting. Skinner was about to doze off when he was aware of a crashing sound. Looking up, he noticed several odd figures pulling on a locked door. The door finally burst out of its hinges. Skinner rushed forward.

Two were heading through the door, only to be stopped by Skinner's grip on their shoulders. Peering over their shoulders, the creatures appeared puzzled.

Skinner finally had a good look at them. It was terrifying. Their bodies were uneven, as though limbs and features had just randomly been weaved slovenly together. Their skin was various pale shades of gray, white, and yellow. The clothes that covered their bodies were torn and decaying.

The other monsters tried to push through the other two into the door and failed. Skinner rapidly jerked the creatures he was holding back, causing the entire crowd to topple. The monsters began to claw and kick at the air, unable to see their opponent.

One of the creatures managed to gain a grip on Skinner's leg as he flailed. The invisible man was pulled to the ground. The monsters marched towards the door again, some managing to trample Skinner. Pulling himself up, Skinner quickly brought his elbow down on the first monster he saw. The creature cried in pain. Skinner then proceeded to swing out his arms, hitting two more of the creatures. The monsters howled and trembled. Skinner quickly planted punches on the injured beasts. Still moaning and trembling, the monsters backed away from the doorway and retreated into the darkness.

> > > > > >

Skinner recounted his adventure to Dr. Watson and the rest of the League the next morning.  
"The zombies are real, then?" said Mina.  
"I don't believe it," said Sawyer.  
"I'm telling you," insisted Skinner, "I saw them with my own eyes."  
"Tell me more about the island you mentioned in your letter, Dr. Watson," said Quatermain.  
"There's not much to tell," said Watson. "It's uninhabited. Too small and too rustic to do anything with."  
"Yet you feel certain there is a connection between the island and these zombies," said Mina.  
"It started as rumor," said Watson. "People have been telling legends about that island for many years now. Once these killings began, it was automatically mentioned that the strange creatures were coming from the island. I thought nothing of it, until daring souls tried to explore the island for themselves. Two men and a young girl disappeared. One man, Mr. Zachary Schultz, was found in his row-boat, which had drifted on to shore. He had been strangled to death."  
"We've done all we can here," said Quatermain. "It's that island I'm interested in now."  
"But everyone who appears on the surface of that water vanishes!" said Watson.

Quatermain looked over at Captain Nemo.  
"Then we must travel under the surface," said Captain Nemo.


	3. By Way of Water

"Are you sure there isn't any way I can change your mind?" asked Dr. Watson, as soon as he had caught his breath. He had been admiring the pristine white of the colossal Nautilus, a vessel unlike any other, halfway submerged beneath the waters of the ocean. 

"I'm afraid this is the only way," answered Quatermain. "I need to see what's on that island." He shook hands with the doctor again before preparing the Nautilus.  
"I just wish there was more I could do to help," said Watson. "Perhaps I should come along with you, after all."  
"You've done more than enough already, doctor," insisted Mina.  
"Quite so," Jekyll agreed readily.  
"Besides," added Quatermain, "you can help us much more by staying right here."

The League all finished their individual good-bye's to Dr. Watson. They then climbed down the hatch of the Nautilus. Watson stood on the shore and waived at the vessel as it slowly submerged beneath the depths.

> > > > > >

The Nautilus was well advanced in design and construction beyond any other vessel of the time. At even its average speed, the Nautilus could have reached its destination in less than an hour's time.

However, considering the tragedy that had befallen other voyagers traveling to the same island, it was agreed that the Nautilus would travel well below its average speed to avoid detection.

At first, the League members were able to pass the time by admiring the many splendors beneath the ocean's surface through the Nautilus' many portholes. Soon, however, the sights seemed to be repeating themselves, and passengers aboard the vessel were forced to find other ways to amuse themselves.

Mina Harker busied herself with her chemistry set, trying to fathom the mysteries of science.

Rodney Skinner amused himself by playing pranks on the crew of the vessel, a feat easy to get away with through his invisibility.

Tom Sawyer amused himself by tossing playing cards into his Stetson cap.

Meanwhile, Dr. Henry Jekyll stood alone in his cabin, grasping his scalp in pain. The mixture of physical pain and mental anxiety caused him to crumple over, clinging to the ledge of his desk to keep from collapsing. As he looked at his hands, they seemed to be changing shape and color, becoming misshapen and disgusting. Jekyll lifted his face to look into his mirror. The sneering, orange face of Edward Hyde looked back at him.

"Let me out, Henry," pleaded the face in the mirror. "Henry, please!"

"No, Edward!" cried Jekyll. "Never!"

"Something the matter, Henry?"

Jekyll hurriedly composed himself and turned towards the voice. He was startled to see no one there to greet him. After a moment's realization, he finally muttered, "Oh, Skinner. It's you."  
"You look like you're in quite a bit of pain," said Skinner. "What's the matter?"

Dr. Jekyll took a deep breath. His secret up to now had been only between him and Hyde. He had been looking for a friend he could confide in. Now it was only a matter of deciding where to start.  
"Skinner," began Jekyll. "You're invisible. You know exactly how it feels."  
"There's nothing in the world quite like it," agreed Skinner.  
"But you miss being visible," said Jekyll. "Being a part of the world you live in. When you walk in to a room, you miss being noticed. You miss having all eyes turn to you."  
"I do," said Skinner. "But what's all this got to do with you?"

"I feel invisible, too," said Jekyll. "Henry Jekyll was a respected  
scientist, but he never had all eyes turn to him once he entered a room. He was looked at as hardly a man. Only a pale thin shell. That's why I invented Edward Hyde. Edward Hyde has presence. He is always noticed when he walks into his room."  
"I'm afraid I don't see your point, doc," said Skinner.

Jekyll felt comfortable telling all of this to Skinner. Since Skinner was invisible, Jekyll had a perfect excuse not to look straight into his eyes. All the same, Jekyll found his vision being cast downwards.  
"I destroyed the Hyde formula," he confessed.  
"You WHAT!" gasped Skinner. It was the might and presence of Edward Hyde that had brought Jekyll into the League in the first place. Although the doctor was a brilliant man and a crucial part of the League, Skinner wondered how the team would function without the doctor's vulgar other self.

"It doesn't matter," said Jekyll. "Edward Hyde is still inside of me. And he can still come out."  
"What do you mean, Henry?" asked Skinner, becoming more and more alarmed.  
"Lately, Edward has been coming out from within me, without my even drinking the formula. The power of Hyde within me has become too strong to handle. Edward exists without the formula now. He is completely beyond my control. I am terrified that at any moment, he might come out again."  
"What are you going to do about all of this?"

"I've been working on an antidote," said Jekyll. "Each batch just seems to make Hyde less controllable. I'm thinking of asking Mina if she would be willing to help..."  
"I'll go get her now," offered Skinner.  
"No!" cried Jekyll, his voice closer resembling Hyde's. "Skinner, you must tell no one. I don't know how'd they react if they found out. Especially Mina. If things become desperate, I'll talk to her. But in the meantime, this must be our secret. Do you understand?"  
"Of course, mate," said Skinner.  
"Thank you, Skinner," said Jekyll. "I knew I could count on you."

As Skinner exited, the pain surged through Jekyll again.

> > > > > >

Even though the secret remained between Skinner and Jekyll, the intensity seemed to hang about the air as the Nautilus continued its pain- stakingly slow voyage across the bottom of the ocean. Skinner stopped taunting the crew members. Mina became increasingly frustrated with her experiments. And Sawyer was tossing more playing cards onto the floor and less into the Stetson. It seemed his bad aim was no longer bothering him.

Quatermain stood beside Captain Nemo at the helm for a good part of the voyage, taking great interest in the progress of their journey. Quatermain was about to head to his own cabin to get some rest, when lights began to glow and alarms began to whistle.

"Something spotted on the radar, sir," announced one of Nemo's mates.  
"Do we know what it is?" asked Nemo.  
"Negative, sir," responded another crew member. "But it's pretty big."

Tom Sawyer was looking through one of the portholes when he thought he saw a large mass of pure white pass by.  
"Was that what I think it was?" asked Sawyer. He turned to Mina, who was anxiously peering through another portal.

Mina looked shaken. That was significant, because it took a lot to shake Wihemina Harker.

Captain Nemo was intently gazing out of the front pane l of the Nautilus, intently looking for what he had thought he had seen. Quatermain stood beside him, looking equally nervous.

Suddenly, everything went dark..  
"What has happened?" demanded Nemo.  
"Power seems to have gone out, sir."  
"Can it be repaired?"

"We're working on..."

The lights came on as suddenly as they had gone out, totally  
illuminating the viewing panel. Nemo and Quatermain, two usually courageous men, both jumped backwards at the sight.

Before them were rows of huge, flat teeth, each about the size of a regular man. Two bulging eyes were barely within the frame. All of this was set in a frame of the purest white.

The face withdrew from the panel. A few moments later, it was replaced by a gigantic tale, swinging into the panel and sending the crew of the Nautilus flying to the ground.

"What was that?" demanded Quatermain.  
"It's the great white whale," replied Nemo.  
"What is that supposed to bloody mean?"  
"They call it Moby Dick."

As if on cue, the monster returned, charging head first into the Nautilus. The whole vessel trembled, threatening to fall to pieces. In the aisles, Sawyer and Mina flew backwards and toppled to the ground, landing one on top of the other. Dr. Jekyll, now transforming into Mr. Hyde, flew head first into the mirror on his cabin wall, creating another loud crash.

"I think I've heard of Moby Dick," said Quatermain.  
"Some say he is a freak of nature," said Nemo. "Others say he is Satan incarnate. Others say he is an instrument of the wrath of God."  
"And what do you say?"

"I say we have better things to worry about right now."

Moby Dick began to move backwards. Then, in a matter of seconds, the monster swam forward and collided with the Nautilus again. This time, cracks began to form in the panel.

"Fire harpoons," said Nemo. "Every one we have. We must weaken the thing!"

Nemo's crew members hastily went about their task. Quatermain watched as several sharp spears forced themselves into the gargantuan whale. The cry of the monster was audible through the cracks in the panel. The Nautilus was tossed about from the waves created by Moby Dick's thrashing and shaking. Soon, most of the spears floated away from the giant whale. Moby Dick seemed agitated but not at all harmed. He charged into the Nautilus again, this time with more force than before.

"Fire our flares," said Nemo. "Aim directly for the target. We need to stop the beast at whatever costs."

Bright lights streaked through the waters and hit Moby Dick. The whale again moaned in pain. Again, it seemed more aggressive and less subdued.

The whale prepared to strike again. Everyone held their breath and braced themselves for another shock. It didn't come. Moby Dick made a sharp turn and disappeared from view. Everyone waited nervously, wondering what was coming next.

A great force hit the Nautilus, and everyone aboard once again was thrown to the ground. Hyde's familiar scream could be heard across the vessel, echoing that of the whale's.

"It has struck the side of the ship," explained Nemo. He turned to one of his mates. "Fire missiles. One at a time, from our less potent to our most powerful. Fire at will! Go!"

As Nemo's men marched off to obey their captain's orders, Nemo turned to Quatermain.  
"I'm afraid our weapons are still a bit rustic," he said. "I whole- heartedly wish Mr. Scrooge would have designated a larger sum towards new armory."  
"Is there anything the rest of us can do to help?" asked Quatermain. "I'm sure Sawyer or Jekyll...?" Nemo just shook his head. Quatermain realized that as much as the rest of the League would be willing to help, this was exclusively the captain's battle.

Everyone watched anxiously as the high-powered explosives fired against Moby Dick. As the explosions cleared, the whale swam rapidly back and forth before the Nautilus. It seemed disoriented. Nemo prepared to give orders to steer away from the whale, but at this point it seemed Moby Dick had shaken himself awake once again.

All Quatermain could see in the panel was Moby Dick's teeth. Then there was complete darkness.

"He's trying to eat us," said Nemo.

Indeed, there was great screeching as the shell of the Nautilus moaned against Moby Dick's powerful grinding teeth.

"We have only one more option," said Nemo. "Focus all of our electrical power to the front shell of the Nautilus."

A great light appeared in the panel. Moby Dick's moan could now be heard throughout the entire ship, echoing through the strong hull of the vessel.  
"Increase voltage."

Sparks now began to fill the viewing panel.

"Increase voltage!"

The light in the panel turned blue.

"Maximum voltage!"

Sparks and lightning volts of blue and yellow flashed inside the whale. Outside, the skeleton of the whale was lighting up beneath its white flesh.

Finally, Nemo ordered that the power be shut. Moby Dick loosened his jaw and quickly retreated into the darkness of the ocean.

Mina, Sawyer, and Skinner entered, looking relieved to still be alived. They were followed by Jekyll. He was panting hard, his eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was the same color as Moby Dick had been. Tell- tale signs that Edward Hyde had just left him. He hoped no one noticed.

The rest of the voyage was relatively dull.


	4. Island of Mystery and Death

**LotRseer3350-_Thank you for your reviews and your constant encouragement. This chapter's for you, buddy_.  
**  
The Nautilus finally arrived at the unnamed island. Even below the surface of the ocean, Captain Nemo's vessel was filled with devices for keeping track of date and time. Night was definitely approaching, and the League members felt fatigued from their long journey. It was decided that everyone aboard the vessel would have a good night's sleep before emerging and setting foot on the mysterious island. 

Tom Sawyer found it incredibly difficult to sleep. He tried. He really did. But being trapped in a closed space, even a space as vast and free as the interior of the Nautilus, was not his style. His mind raced across all of his earlier adventures. Running away from home with Huckleberry Finn. Aiding in the rescue of a slave named Jim. Opening a detective agency. Joining the League and battling a fiend known as the Fantom. Then his mind latched to the present adventure. Rodney Skinner was the only member of the team that had a piece of the action so far. Sawyer thought about Skinner's description of the monsters that had attacked Germany. The images he tried to construct from the descriptions caused a chill to run up and down his spine. Sawyer wondered how accurate the images were. They seemed almost exactly like the images described by Skinner, but then Rodney Skinner was prone to exageration. Then again, so was Tom Sawyer.

Sawyer's mind then turned to Mina Harker. The thought warmed him up immediately. Right away, Tom Sawyer, ever the Southern gentleman, felt ashamed of his lustful thoughts. Mina had made it clear that she was in no way romantically interested in him. In fact, she looked at him as a child. Sawyer thought perhaps that was part of the reason he wanted her so badly. Because he knew he couldn't have her.

Sawyer wondered what it was about Mina that made him so irresistably attracted to her. Perhaps it was the same cloud of mystery and darkness that everyone else noticed about her. Or perhaps that was just caused by the fact that she was a vampire. People that didn't realize that saw only that there was something indescribably wrong about her. They didn't realize what the illness was that was plaguing Mina. They hadn't seen her shred a man's neck to bit with her long fangs the way Sawyer had.

This brought Sawyer back to his original question: After seeing all of this, how could he still be so attracted to her? Because she wasn't like all of the girls Sawyer had known. She wasn't dainty and gentle. She didn't need anyone to look after her and protect her. On the contrary, she was the dangerous one. Most men needed the protection from her.

What were the girls Sawyer had known like? Sawyer's mind traveled and arrived at Becky Thatcher. Sawyer closed his eyes in an attempt to squeeze back the tears that were forming in his eyes. He knew the rest of the League members wouldn't see the tears. Not in Sawyer's private cabin in the Nautilus. Still, Sawyer felt ashamed of the tears. He lit the small reading lamp on the wall of his cabin and reached into the chest he kept all of his items on while aboard the Nautilus. The others relied on their desk and dressers. Sawyer just needed the chest. Reaching in, he found a picture of Becky.

She had been Sawyer's first love. It is said that a man never forgets his first love, and for Sawyer this was true. He had told her that he didn't want a serious relationship. He had told her he just wanted to be friends. She had given him a bloody jaw for those statements. The woman always could pack a punch. Perhaps it was that fierceness that attracted Sawyer to women. Or perhaps it was that fierceness in Mina that just reminded Sawyer of Becky.

She hadn't been really fierce, though. For the most part, she was the perfect Southern belle. A real dainty and gentle little lady. A girl that needed protecting. She was everything Mina wasn't, yet at this moment Sawyer could not deny a longing to see her again. Why didn't he ever look for her? Sawyer had planned on visiting her several times. Yet, something always stopped him. Probably the same thing that stopped him from making the commitment to her that she had wanted in the first place. And perhaps the same thing that, in a warped way, attracted him to Mina Harker. Fear.

This conjured up the images of the zombies Skinner had described once again. All of this thinking soon exhausted Sawyer, who fell asleep before he could even remember to turn out the reading light.

> > > > > >

Sawyer awoke late the next morning for the same reason the rest of the League had. He heard loud footsteps on the roof of the Nautilus.

The Nautilus had only been partially submerged that night. The top of the vessel had been exposed, just slightly above the surface of the ocean. Just enough to take more oxygen into the Nautilus without being easily detected. Apparently some sort of creature, or creatures, had decided to climb aboard.

Sawyer joined the rest of the League in the main corridor of the Nautilus. Captain Nemo was peering anxiously through the viewing piece of the Nautilus' periscope. Sawyer noted the look of perplexion and fear on Nemo's face. Sawyer was surprised to see that it reflected on the face of his fearless mentor, Allan Quatermain.

"May I have a look?" asked Sawyer. Nemo silently stepped back and let Sawyer press his face against the viewing piece.

Sawyer felt sick. He saw strange, disgusting figures, figures that just barely resembled human beings, pacing back and forth across the surface of the Nautilus. Sawyer screamed when one of the creatures moved forward, bringing his body right up to the other piece of the periscope. The view revealed varying colors of flesh. Shades of white, gray, and yellow, exactly as Skinner had described. Sawyer now realized that the figures resembled walking, rotting corpses.

Sawyer recoiled from the periscope in terror. Skinner looked at Sawyer, his arrogant smile painted in his usual face grease.  
"I told you so," said Skinner mockingly.

Nemo returned to his place at the periscope. The monsters were wandering across the surface of the Nautilus, jumping up and down, clawing the surface of the vessel. The loud, metallic echoes inside the ship reflected each move they made. The creatures continued to jump and claw. It was as if they were studying the Nautilus. Trying to figure out what it was.

It was a waiting game. Nemo realized that the monsters would only poke and prod at the Nautilus until they lost interest. In the meantime, the League could only huddle together and wait for the danger to pass. They waited for what seemed like hours, waiting for the pounding and clanking to stop.

Eventually, silence replaced the loud echoes. Everyone aboard the Nautilus breathed a sigh of relief. Just to be same, Nemo suggested the Nautilus fully submerge and not emerge until it was certain the danger was past. Quatermain concurred. Jekyll, Skinner, Quatermain, Sawyer, and Mina spent an hour trying to find ways to keep themselves amused while Nemo stayed at the periscope and watched for danger. Sawyer returned to tossing playing cards into his Stetson. Finally, Nemo announced the coast seemed clear and gave the order for the Nautilus to slowly rise to the surface.

> > > > > >

The six Extraordinary Gentlemen stretched and stumbled as they climbed off of the Nautilus onto the island, desperately trying to regain their land legs. Nemo ordered his crew to submerge once again and then to reemerge only as they needed oxygen again. Other than that, they were to do nothing without more orders from their captain.

The members of the League looked around them. They were situated on the beach of a tropical paradise. The warm sun basked their skin. A cool breeze blew through the palm trees above them. In this jungle habitat, Quatermain felt truly at home for the first time since joining the League.

"Whoa," said Sawyer.

"It's beautiful here," said Mina. "I can't believe this is the island all of those German ghost stories have been told about. It doesn't seem like an island clouded in mystery and haunted by death."  
"All the same," said Nemo, "this does seem to be the location the beings that visited the Nautilus this morning came from."

The League nervously tried to peer through the lush vegetation around them.  
"Are you sure we're safe here?" asked Sawyer.  
"I think we're alone here," said Quatermain. "All the same, stay alert, men!"

Allan Quatermain felt an undeniable rush of adrenaline. Some instinct promted him to draw his pistol and carry it on, pointed in the air. Mycroft may have been the official leader of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen now, but in the field, Quatermain was still the captain of the team. Quatermain felt the pressure but at the same time felt proud of the weighty responsibility.

> > > > > >

Even with his pistol drawn and prepared, Quatermain did not realize that behind a thick clump of greenery, he was being watched. Three figures like those he had viewed through the periscope of the Nautilus that morning were spying intently on the five men and one woman trespassing on their island. Among them was another figure unlike the rest of them. Compared to these strange creatures, the other figure appeared to be human. Yet, compared to most humans, this figure was another monster. His face was twisted, a hideous birth defect. And his back was misshapen. It was bent and it bore the weight of a humongous hump. The four deformed creatures watched the League with great interest before sneaking out of the clump and in the opposite direction of the beach.

"What do we do know? What's the plan?" asked young Sawyer eagerly.  
"To be perfectly honest," said Quatermain, "I don't know. I wasn't sure we'd actually make it this far."  
"Huh?"  
"Just start looking."

Jekyll, Skinner, Nemo, and Mina began to eagerly walk back and forth  
across the beach. Quatermain soon joined them.

"What are we looking for?" asked Sawyer.  
"Just about anything," said Quatermain.

"I found something!" called Mina. The others rapidly flocked around her. Mina was holding a cigarette case with the engraved initials: "Z.S."

"Zachary Schultz," suggested Jekyll. "Dr. Watson's friend."  
"I take it this is what you were looking for, Mr. Quatermain," said Nemo. "Signs that human life has been recently on this island?"  
"It's a start," admitted Quatermain. "Now we need to find a boat landing."  
"A boat landing? What for?" questioned Sawyer.  
"Somehow, bloodthirsty beasts have been coming from this island to Germany," said Quatermain. "Either there bloody good swimmers, or they have some other mode of transportation. Thus, a boat landing. Or at least a boat."

Again, the League began to diligently comb the beach.

> > > > > >

Meanwhile, the small band of zombie spies and their deformed companion arrived at the monstrous building located at the exact center of the island.

A young, handsome man with jet-black hair emerged from one of the smaller laboratories within the building. Despite the boyishness and pleasantness of his face and figure, his face also held a certain look of derangement. Victor Frankenstein ignored this quality in his reflection as he removed his white lab coat, now quite red from bloodstains. He was becoming used to the gore. He had worked in his line of science so long that he was beginning to lose the sick feelings he once had at the examination of human corpses, and all that was within them. Still, the blood made him sick, not because it was a sign of life, but because it was also a symbol of the opposite. The one subject that made him sick to the stomach. Death.

Frankenstein shrugged off this feeling as he left the bloody lab coat behind and adjusted the ostentatious necktie that had been hidden beneath it. He sat in his oversized, overstuffed chair, which he had intentionally set up to resemble a throne, and beckoned for the hunchback, Quasimodo, to enter.

Victor Frankenstein was careful to look straight into Quasimodo's eyes so that the hunchback could read his lips.  
"Report," said Victor Frankenstein slowly, giving Quasimodo the time to decipher the symbols. Quasimodo's response was agonizingly slow.

"Fi-I-ive ma-e-en. Ooonne wo-o-ma-e-en. They arrrrre on the be-e-e- aaach, llllo-o-o-oking arrrr-ound. They arrrrr-I-I-vvv-ed frrrrom Ggg-erm- a-nnnnnnnnnn-y. by ssssommmmme ki-I-ind of mmmmma-ch-I-I-ne. Oooonne is o- lll-ddd, with a whi-I-te bbbb-ear-ddd and a strrronnnnnng bodddy. Ooonne is ooon-nly a bbbboyyy. Ooonne is alllll whi-I-te and wearrrrrrrinnnnnnng b-b-b-l-l-lack. Ooonne is Indddd-I-ian. Verrry strronnnnnnnnng. Ooonne is verrry p-p-a-ale and skkkinnnny. Verrry gaunt-tly. Ooonne is a wo-o-ma- e-en. Verrry b-b-b-l-l-ack. (By this, Quasimodo described the intangible darkness always surrounding Mina Harker.) The kinnnnnnd with lo-o-ong ttt- e-eth. They arrrrre llllo-o-o-king arrrr-ound on the be-e-e-aaach."

Victor Frankenstein laughed. He ran his fingers through his silky black hair.  
"The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen," he said. "And some say they are merely a legend. Allan Quatermain, the great White hunter. The irrepressible Tom Sawyer. The invisible man. Captain Nemo of the vessel Nautilus. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And one of Count Dracula's mistresses."  
"W-a-a-ttt dooo yoooou w-w-a-a-ant mmmeeeeee to dooo?"  
"Nothing yet," said Frankenstein. "Let them satisfy their curiosity. No one else has made it this far yet. Perhaps they'll realize that and turn around. In the meantime, they pose no immediate threat. Tell the troops to leave them alive. But by all means, keep an eye on them."  
"Aaasssss yooooou wi-I-ish, mmmma-a-a-ssss-terrrr."

As Quasimodo exited, Victor Frankenstein once again smiled and burst into evil laughter.

> > > > > >

Meanwhile, the League had spent hours marching across the shoreline and still had not caught a glimpse of the boat landing Quatermain was looking for.  
"At this rate we'll be at it for hours more!" groaned Skinner.  
"I'd hate to say it, but Skinner's right, Allan," said Sawyer. "We need a change of plans."  
"I just don't understand it," said Quatermain. "It seems to me the most practical place for the boat to be stored would be on the coast facing the mainland, and this is it."  
"Perhaps our adversary isn't concerned with being practical," said Nemo. "Perhaps he is more concerned with remaining undetected."  
"Perhaps he put the boat landing on another side of the island," added Jekyll. "He'd have to move around the island, but the extra time may be worth it to him to avoid being seen by boats coming from the mainland."  
"Then we need to check every side of this island," said Quatermain.  
"We can't just keep marching along the coast like this," said Jekyll. "We'll be at it for days, not just hours."

"Perhaps we should split up," said Sawyer. "We can cover more ground that way."  
"You're right, boy," said Quatermain. "We should split into smaller units and spread out. Let's start out with Mrs. Harker. Who will be her partner?"  
"Me!" Jekyll, Skinner, and Sawyer all volunteered at once.  
"Nemo," said Quatermain. "You take Mrs. Harker as your partner."

Nemo nodded in agreement as the three young men groaned in disappointment.

"Sawyer," said Quatermain. "You'll be partners with Dr. Jekyll. If trouble arises, Mr. Hyde can protect you."

The thought of Hyde brought an extra shade of pale to Jekyll's face, but no one noticed. Nemo and Mina came together and stepped back from the huddle. Sawyer and Jekyll did the same.

"Skinner," said Quatermain. "You'll come with me. Are there any questions?"

Skinner moved over next to Quatermain, and they took a step back as well.

"Captain Nemo and Mrs. Harker, you take the Eastern coast of the island. Dr. Jekyll and Sawyer, you take the Western coast. Skinner and I will cut through the center of the island. We'll all meet up at the Northern shore. If anyone runs into trouble before then, retreat back to the Nautilus."

The members of the League all huddled together again and put their hands together, one on top of the other, as they had done on various occasions before, silently confirming their unspoken pact with one another. After that, they returned to the Nautilus to grab backpack, already filled with all of the supplies necessary for any mission. This finished, the six simply parted and began to march in their agreed upon directions.

Quatermain finally took a deep breath and began to march away from the beach into the thick jungle ahead. As he passed through the first row of palm trees, he saw a large, mossy hill.  
"All right, Skinner. You first."  
"Why me?"  
"Because if someone's on the other side waiting for us, you can warn me?"  
"Why do I have to give warning? I'll be the first one to be  
attacked!"  
"Yes, but if someone takes a shot, they'll be more likely to miss you  
than me. They can't bloody see you!"

"No fair," murmured Skinner, already wiping off his face paint and taking off his coat and hat, handing them to Quatermain to add to his backpack. With that, Skinner marched forward and began his climb.


	5. Ambushed!

_Disclaimer: It's a bit late on in the game now, but everyone else seemed to have one. Though, honestly, it seems a disclaimer is a bit redundant to me. If I owned the rights to any characters, titles, or trademarks in this story, it would defeat the whole purpose of "fanfiction." _

**_LotRseer3350_-Thank you again for your reviews. I'm not very good with Internet slang and acronyms. What is "OOC"? Oh, well. Hopefully the Quatermain in this chapter is the one we all know and love.  
**  
**_ThePet_ – It's always good to hear from a new reader. Welcome aboard for the ride. Again, you're going to need to help me out with these Internet terms. What is a "Mary**-Sue"?

Allan Quatermain had to admit the sight was amusing. He had spent the last few hours watching the thick jungle foliage slashed down by a machete that seemed to be swinging itself. In fact, Quatermain grew so used to being led forward by the moving machete that once the machete stopped swinging upon reaching a clearing, he forgot about the weight of the invisible man swinging it until he collided with him.

"Oomph! Watch it, will you, Mr. Q?"

Skinner moved forward and took his seat on a large rock, flinging the knife into the ground in front of him.  
"We've been marching for hours. Can we take a break yet?"  
"Sure you can't go any further?" asked Quatermain, entering the clearing and rotating, taking in his surroundings.  
"I'd much rather not."  
"We've been hiking long enough," admitted Quatermain. "We'll catch our breath here." He lowered himself to a sitting position on the ground across from Skinner. For the first time, he noticed a strange mist across the air where Skinner's face would be. A veil of sweat.  
"How much further?"

"The island is much larger than I would have thought," said Quatermain. "I've no idea when will reach the other shore at this rate."  
"Sure you haven't gotten us lost?"  
"Trust me, Skinner. I don't get lost that easily. We've been marching for approximately seven hours in a straight line. We've barely entered this jungle yet. A few days more, and we may have to worry about getting lost."  
"Days?"  
"As I said before, this island is a bit larger than I would have imagined. But, don't worry. As long as we keep marching forward in a straight line, this trek should go quite smoothly."  
"That is, providing we don't run into certain someone's."  
"I'd rather you hadn't reminded me of that, Skinner," said Quatermain. At that moment a low, pitiful wale was heard across the island. "Besides, it may not be just your zombies we have to worry about."

"What was that?"  
"A wild animal," said Quatermain. "I'd say a great gray wolf. And I'm sure that if he's here, he's not the only one." Quatermain surveyed the ground for any type of tracks. "I'd say we don't have to worry about that until we go deeper into the jungle."

Skinner laughed nervously.  
"At least I don't have to worry about the beasts seeing me," said Skinner. "I just sit back and watch you be devoured..."  
"Oh, no, my boy," said Quatermain. "I'd say we're both fair game. Animals rely on things beside their eyes. Their instincts. And smell. The smell of fear. The smell of sweat."

Another cloud of mist was forming in the air. It turned into thick droplets that flew across the air and cascaded to the ground as Skinner quickly wiped the moisture away.  
"This is going to be a fun outing," Skinner said ironically.  
"We can continue on as soon as you're ready," said Quatermain.  
"No time like the present, I suppose," said Skinner.

The floating machete began to move once again.

> > > > > >

Victor Frankenstein willed himself to be unusually calm and subdued as he listened to Quasimodo's usual, long, agonizing report. He nodded slowly and then, still sublimely calm, spoke.  
"The League has more perseverance than I had expected," said Frankenstein. "I can't believe they've had the drive and courage to keep going."  
"Sh-h-h-aaaaa-ale weeeee d-d-d-eeeeee-s-s-s-tr-ooooy theeeemmmm, mmmma-a-a-ssss-terrrr?"  
"No, Quasimodo," replied Frankenstein. "I will send small platoons to meet our invaders, but I want the Extraordinary Gentlemen brought to me alive."  
"Aaasssss yooooou wi-I-ish, mmmma-a-a-ssss-terrrr."

As Quasimodo slowly pushed himself away from Frankenstein's chair, the young man still was amazingly calm. In fact, a satisfied smile began to form on his lips.

> > > > > >

Tom Sawyer was silently compiling a list of the names of young females in his head, in alphabetical order. He was doing this simply because he had no other way to amuse himself on his long hike.

He had tried making conversation with Dr. Jekyll. He had succeeded at first. Jekyll was a good listener, and he seemed to enjoy Sawyer's accounts of his exciting and sometimes humorous childhood misadventures. Jekyll himself was, however, much less open about his past. Sawyer respected that. He knew Jekyll would open up in time. Meanwhile, Jekyll was too ashamed of himself to admit he had a past, and he especially didn't like to think of the events leading up to or following the creation of Mr. Hyde. Eventually, a deep silence fell between Jekyll and Sawyer.

"Rebecca... Samantha... Tina..." Then Saywer hit "U." The silence became even deeper as Sawyer tried to solve the puzzle. He opened his mouth to invite Jekyll in on his game, but then he quickly closed it. In the deep silence, he had heard something. Sawyer quickly held out his hand, motioning to Jekyll to stop.

If there had been a deep silence before, it now fell from deep to unbearable. There was no sound of anything living. Neither human nor animal. Sawyer began to doubt he had heard anything himself. His eyes darted from one end of the beach to the other. He then heard the sound again. A faint rustling in the jungle foliage. He moved away from the beach towards the plant life. He neared a clump of the foliage and then stood still, just listening.

A creature suddenly appeared in front of Sawyer. The young man was knocked to the ground by the combination of surprise and unpleasant odor. He could smell the odor of rotting flesh.

Sawyer quickly crawled backwards on his hand, trying to distance himself from the zombies that began to emerge from the darkness of the jungle. Even in the afternoon sunlight over the beach, the creatures were a disgusting and menacing sight.

Jumping to his feet, Sawyer drew his twin pistols and, taking one in each hand, he began to fire at the attacking monsters. The creatures stumbled and dropped, but seemed ultimately unharmed. Sawyer continued firing until he was out of bullets. Still, none of the zombies showed any signs of bleeding or other injury. Sawyer looked back at his companion, only to notice he was gone.

Jekyll was a coward and he knew it. The guilt brought tears to his eyes as he hid behind a large rock and watched his friend being mauled by the creatures. He felt a strong desire to help his young friend. The desire was overcome by fear. He saw the zombies getting closer. Right now, they were distracted by Sawyer, but it was only a matter of time before they turned to him.

Then, deep down inside, Jekyll heard the familiar voice of Edward Hyde, begging to be released...

Saywer began to fight the zombies off with his bare hands and feet. His weapons may have been emptied, but he could still throw a pretty mean punch. The blows did, at least, seem to cause the things pain, though it seemed to Sawyer at this time there was no way to kill or disable them. He threw one last glance back towards where Jekyll had been standing, hoping his companion would back him up as he was intended to. Saywer was relieved when he saw Jekyll going through his slow and painful metamorphosis to Hyde.

The giant orange beast attacked, grabbing the zombies two at a time off of Sawyer's back and flinging them into a jungle. The creatures were persistent. After being knocked to the ground, they would regroup and swarm at Hyde and Sawyer again. But now there were two targets. Saywer began running down the beach, trying to lead some of the zombies away from Hyde. A few did, but after suffering a few punches from Sawyer, they would break off and run for Hyde. Saywer stopped and turned to watch the zombies grab and claw Hyde. Hyde seemed irritated, but he was as hard to disable as any of them. He could go on for a long period of fighting without ever showing a sign of pain.

Sawyer was so distracted watching the battle that he didn't notice the creatures behind him. Until he felt a cold, slimy hand over his mouth. And then it was too late. The monsters pulled Sawyer to the ground and began to drag him away.

Hyde looked up and saw Sawyer sliding across the beach into the jungle. He moved forward to help his companion. Then he felt something sting his leg. A small sting, like an insect bite. But as he moved forward, he began to lose feeling in his legs. He collapsed when he could no longer feel them. The numbness began to spread over his whole body. He didn't mind the physical numbness as much as the mental one that began to cloud his brain. As darkness began to sweep over him, he caught a glimpse of the tiny dart jutting out of his enormous leg. He wondered if he had been poisoned to death.

Then everything was black.


	6. Night Camp

_Disclaimer: It's a bit late on in the game now, but everyone else seemed to have one. Though, honestly, it seems a disclaimer is a bit redundant to me. If I owned the rights to any characters, titles, or trademarks in this story, it would defeat the whole purpose of "fanfiction."  
_  
**LotRseer3350-_Thanks for the quick lesson in fanfic terms. Here's another chapter. I hope you enjoy it.  
_  
Queerquail – _I'm glad you caught that line. "The game is on!" I though that was one of the best lines in the movie.  
_  
La Fille de Belleville – _I'm so happy you're enjoying this. Dr. Jekyll's one of my favorite characters, too.  
_**  
I'm dead, thought Tom Sawyer. I can't see anything. I can't feel or hear anything. So, this is what it's like. 

Being conscious of the nothingness around him scared Sawyer. Then he soon began to feel again. He could feel a dull throbbing in his head, moving in perfect time with his pulse. He still had a pulse. That was a good sign.

Everywhere Sawyer turned, he could see nothing but complete darkness. He tried to move his arms to feel ahead of him. They were heavy. He tried to swing them back. He felt cold stone.

He was in some kind of dungeon, and his arms were chained. He let his mind do some more exploring for him. What was the last thing he could remember? Hands. About ten or twenty dry, rotting hands pulling him down. And then his head striking something. Someone had been with him. Who?

Dr. Jekyll. When Sawyer last saw him, he had been Mr. Hyde. What had happened to him? Had he been captured like Sawyer? Or worse? Was he injured? Was he dead?

Sawyer hurled himself forward in rage, but the chains constricted him, and he soon found his weight falling back into the wall. He tried again, this time with more force. This just made the returning blow more painful. Sawyer blinked back tears.

Sawyer fought back tears. He began moving his hands back and forth, trying to free his arms from their bound. The steel of the shackles just scraped against his wrists, causing more pain.

Despite Sawyer's fighting, tears of pain were starting to escape his eyes and join with the wet sweat on his face. Sawyer felt the throbbing in his head causing his brain to go numb. A strange sleepiness was overtaking him. His vision was getting fuzzy. Even with all of the fight that had ever been in Tom Sawyer, he felt the urge to stop struggling. Stop thinking. At least for now.

Sawyer willed himself back into unconsciousness.

> > > > > >

Three days later. Mina Harker paced the beach, looking out at the reflection of the full moon on the ocean around her. She didn't feel like sleeping. She was like the bat now. A creature of the night.

She was becoming anxious. She didn't need sleep. Why should her companion? She had volunteered for this mission to help people. To stop innocents from dying. She had been hiking and hiking and found nothing. She didn't see how this was helping at all. People were dying in Germany, even as her companion slept.

She walked up from the shore. Up to the place where she and Captain Nemo had made camp. She looked over at Nemo's tent. It was decorated in wreaths of garlic. How sweet. All this time with the League, and Nemo still didn't trust her. He pretended to trust her. He talked with her and worked with her, and even requested her help time from time, usually when it came to chemistry, the one type of science in which Mina was superior. She was still aware, however, that Nemo was wary of Mina's vampire instincts. The garlic was a blatant testimony to that fact.

Mina was about to crawl into her tent and try to wage battle against her insomnia when her super-sensitive ears caught something. The hair on the back of her neck stiffened. She slowly and gracefully straightened her back. She then pricked her ears in an attempt to catch the sound again. She heard it. The slight rustling of the brush.

Mina crept with all of her grace and agility towards the sound. She was careful she made no such noises, and she maintained perfect silence. As she came nearer to the brush, the rustling sound only became louder and more frequent.

The rustling reached an all-time high. Mina froze in her tracks as something emerged from the bushes. The figure was a misshapen, hulking form of flesh. The face was bent and twisted. The hands were uneven, fat, and limp. The back was bent over in a terrible arch. Wide eyes were set deep in the disfigured face, looking at Mina with a deep set fear.

The figure quickly turned and fought its way back through the bushes. Mina could see it scamper away into the night.

Nemo soon was at Mina's side.  
"You heard it too?"

Nemo merely nodded. Mina could see Nemo's sword at his side. His hand was still on the handle, ready to unsheath the weapon.

"But did you see it?" asked Mina.  
"What was it?" asked Nemo.  
"I'm not quite sure," said Mina. "I think it was a man."  
"Like the creatures we saw?" asked Nemo.  
"No," said Mina. "Nothing at all like the creatures we saw."  
"Do you think it poses any threat to us?" asked Nemo.  
"I'm not quite sure," Mina said again.

> > > > > >

Meanwhile, the cold night air was once again nipping at Skinner's spine. He wished he could put some clothes on. He realized this was much in the way Jekyll wished he could cure himself of Hyde. He'd be human again, but he wouldn't be of much use to the League.

Skinner was on guard duty, patrolling the camp site he and Quatermian had set up, preparing for attackers. Quatermain had generously suggested that they take shifts, one guarding while the other slept. Skinner had insisted that he take full duty. After all, he was the least likely to be seen.

Being noble had its consequences. That's why Skinner tried to avoid it so often. He was cold and his eyelids felt heavy. He wanted nothing more than to be curled up in his warm sleeping bag in the comfortingly closed quarters of his simple tent.

Skinner couldn't really sleep anyway. He had dozed off a couple of times while on duty. Each time, he was awaken by the ugly teeth and discolored flesh of the strange creatures he knew were roaming the island. He had to keep himself from screaming as he realized these were merely visions of his nightmares.

Every sound, whether it was the snapping of a twig, the calling of some wild animal, or the mournfull sighing of the wind, sent additional chills down Skinner's spine and reminded him why he was trying to stay awake. He could just imagine the camp being invaded by throngs of those hideous monsters. He could imagine the tents being surrounded on all sides. He remembered what he had thought the night in Germany when he had first seen those terrible monsters. Just because they couldn't see him, didn't mean they couldn't hurt him.

Still, Skinner couldn't deny the heaviness on his eyelids. It was becoming a struggle to stay awake. It helped that Skinner wanted to stay awake as much as he had to stay awake. He didn't want to fall asleep once again only to be overcome by the nightmares. He could still see the sneering faces of the monsters all around him.

To overcome the fear, Skinner tried to think pleasant thoughts. He thought of Mina and her exotic beauty. He thought of can-can dancers in Paris. He thought of belly dancers in the Mid-East. Finally, he became home-sick as he thought of the tarts of London.

The thoughts of his women comforted him, and soon Skinner forgot all about the nightmares. He let the heaviness push down on his eyelids, and once again he began to doze.


	7. Lost!

_Disclaimer – Needless to say, I do not own any rights to the titles or trademarks of "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen", even though all of the characters are actually in the public domain. I think so, anyway._

**A/N – _Due to a lack of reviews, and my own realization that I didn't quite take the time to write this last chapter as well as I should have, I have gone back and completely revised it. Please let me know what you think.  
_**  
**LotRseer3350 - _Don't worry. I haven't had and I don't have any intention to kill off any members of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Or do I? I guess you'll have to keep reading to find out.  
_  
La Fille de Belleville – _Thanks for your glowing reviews. If you liked my tricks so far, just wait until you see my next one.  
_**  
The beast was restless. It growled and it raged, tossing several of the creatures through the air, grabbing and clawing at the rest. Some of the creatures soon realized the danger and stayed as far back from the beast as was possible in the holding cell. The more foolish creatures suffered the beast's wrath, until at last they saw no choice but to retreat as well.

"You don't have to feed the animal now," said Victor Frankenstein, listening to the loud growls from Mr. Hyde's holding cell. "Wait until the beast has calmed its rage. Then you will attend to it."

The monsters merely continued to plead silently with their pale, sickly eyes.

"You can attend to the animal later," Frankenstein repeated. "Now, go. Go!" With that, he shooed the creatures away.

Frankenstein brought his fingertips to his temples and massaged forcefully. What was he doing wrong? Why were his experiments still such failures? Soon, it wouldn't matter. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen would provide him with the help he needed. They would help him finish his experiments, no matter what it would take. Whether they wanted to or not.

Frankenstein walked down the stone corridor of the lair he had worked so hard to create. He entered a small room, where several of the creatures were waiting. Finally, he looked at one of the monsters, his face showing no sign of emotion. Only coldness. Frankenstein lifted a concrete bust of Napoleon from a shelf on the wall and hurled it at the monster, who whined in pain.

"You worthless pieces of refuse!" cried Frankenstein. "Why have you failed?"

The monster that had been hit began to open and close its mouth wildly. Finally, sounds began to come out. One of his creatures was trying to speak.

The monster began grunting and cooing, creating unintelligible sounds. The noise was the same as that produced by an infant trying to speak for the first time.

Frankenstein froze. Interesting. His experiments had never shown this before. Perhaps there was hope for his project after all.

> > > > > >

Elsewhere, the salty ocean breeze felt cool and refreshing. Captain Nemo and Mina Harker cherished this as they continued their trek across the beach. Mina reflected, as she had upon her arrival to the island, that it hardly seemed evil could be lurking in such a beautiful place. The exotic trees and plants. The beautiful ocean. The warm, picturesque beaches that she and the captain were now treading. It hardly seemed that the island could be holding the secret to so many violent, terrible deaths.

The fact simply remained that Mina and Nemo were not finding what they were looking for. No sign of a boat or a dock as Quatermain had suggested. No sign of any of the monsters that were supposedly responsible for the murders in Germany. No sign of anything that would connect this island to the murders in Germany. Their only encounter had been with the hunchback the other night. Still, there was something about that encounter... Mina was sure that Quatermain had been right now. Her every instinct agreed with his. Something strange was going on on this island.

Mina suddenly froze in her tracks. She finally found the signs she had been looking for. Footprints. Human footprints. Still, there was something horribly bizarre about them. They didn't follow a straight path. The feet were bent and pointed in strange directions and angles. Their paths were simply inhuman. It was as if human feet had been slovenly sewed onto strange legs.

Nemo, noticing Mina had stopped, shot his companion a questioning glance. Mina replied by pointing silently at the footprints. An uneasy silence seemed to fall over the entire island.

Finally, Nemo spoke.  
"The creatures do leave footprints."  
"Obviously," replied Mina nonchalantly.

Nemo bent down, giving the footprints a much closer examination.  
"They're fresh," he said. "Made within the last day."

Mina and Nemo just looked at each other, their eyes saying something  
their mouths wouldn't. And, in reply to this silent message, Nemo drew his sword.

> > > > > >

Meanwhile, the veil of sweat was forming more thickly than ever across the air where Rodney Skinner's face was.  
"Hate to break it to you, Mr. Q," the invisible man lamented, "but I think we're going in circles."  
"I think so, too, Skinner," said Allan Quatermain. "I'm starting to recognize the landmarks."

The two had both predicted this moment was coming. Quatermain said the path would only be sure as long as it was straight. And the path was only straight until Quatermain and Skinner came to a creek. Quatermain judged the creek to be just wide enough and thick enough to be dangerous to wade through. The obvious course of action was to walk around the obstacle. Unfortunately, the creek was much longer than the two could have foreseen.

After wading through smaller creeks, traveling over steep hills, and starting down several twisting paths, Skinner felt certain that by now Quatermain was just as hopelessly lost as he was.  
"I'm sorry, Skinner," admitted Quatermain. "These are unexplored lands for the both of us. And unexplored lands are best traveled through with a guide that knows the territory."  
"Splendid," said Skinner. "Now where are we supposed to find...?"

Skinner was stopped by Quatermain, who held a finger in the air, requesting silence. His sharp, seasoned ears had caught something.

Just beyond Quatermain's vision, obscured by the thick jungle foliage, someone was watching. The young boy had dark skin and long, unruly black hair. He was dressed only in a loincloth. His whole face and figure held all of the wildness of some sort of animal. He seemed to sense someone had looked in his direction. With all the silence and agility of a wolf, the boy crept away, back through the jungle.

> > > > > >

Tom Sawyer opened his eyes. Not that it made much difference. He was surrounded by complete darkness. Looking down, he could barely see the shackles around his wrists.

Sawyer fought the urge to slip into sleep again. Now wasn't the time for sleeping. Now was the time for thinking. Sawyer's mind began to eagerly race through every thing the agency had taught him. He had to access his situation. He had to know his prison. He had to find a way out.

It was useless. The harder he thought, the harder his mind seemed to slam against dead ends. He stopped thinking just long enough for his stomach to take over where his brain had stopped. How long had it been since he had last had anything to eat or drink?

As if in answer to his question, there was a loud creaking sound and a burst of light filled the cell, momentarily blinding Sawyer. A door had been opened, allowing a beam of light to enter. Within the beam, Sawyer could make out the same twisted, deformed figures that had captured him.  
"Get out!" screamed Sawyer, lunging as far forward as the chains would allow. "Get away from me!'

The creatures stepped back, worry filling their already hideous faces. Sawyer tried to bust from the chains, tried to attack his captors. It was no use. After a minute of struggling, Sawyer finally began to calm down. It was then that he noticed one of the creatures was placing a plate of food on the ground.

Sawyer tried to remain calm as two of the creatures came closer to him. He heard the sound of a key, and then he could move his hands once again. Sawyer's first impulse was to overpower the creatures and escape. Then he thought better of it. The creatures seemed to be caring for him. Feeding him. They didn't seem to want to do him any harm right now.

Sawyer grabbed a piece of food, examining it carefully, checking to make sure it hadn't somehow been poisoned. He couldn't tell. When his stomach growled once again, he realized he didn't really care. He'd take his chances. He ate noisily, ravenously. Drops of juice fell down his chin and onto his clothes.

As he looked up from his food, Sawyer saw the creatures still looking at him. He knew there was only one proper thing to do.  
"Thank you," he said gently.

The creautes looked at him, puzzled. Finally, Sawyer could see one of their mouth's moving. Moving like his. Trying to produce sound. Nothing came out.

The creatures simply turned and moved out of the cell, shutting the door behind them and leaving Sawyer once again in the cold darkness.

> > > > > >

Skinner groaned. His legs ached. He was out of breath. He wanted nothing better than to slip back into sleep once again.

"Keep going," said Quatermain. "Keep marching. We should be there soon." "Be where?" asked Skinner, barely whispering the words as he gasped for breath.

"I recognize this stream," said Quatermain. "If we can find a way to retrace our steps, we can at least make it back to the creek. We'll decide what to do next once we get there."

Skinner opened his mouth to complain, but Quatermain immediately silenced him. Something didn't feel right.

Quatermain perked up his ears and listened to the sounds all around him. Beneath the hiss of the flowing water, he could hear another hissing. A softer but steadier hissing. Quatermain's sharp eyes slowly scanned the edge of the stream. His eye caught something.

Something green, long, and slimy was moving along the side of the stream. Skinner noticed it, too. His heart beat wildly. He remembered what Quatermain had said. About how being invisible would not keep Skinner safe from wild animals. Even if they couldn't see him, Skinner was convinced an animal would now be able to find him if only by listening to the heavy beating of his heart.

Quatermain mouthed one word at Skinner: "python."

The snake was beginning to crawl towards Quatermain. Quatermain stood still, not daring to even breath. His eyes simply stared straight forward at the snake crawling across the ground in front of him. Quatermain then realized he hadn't yet caught a glimpse of the python's tail. It had to be at least twenty feet long.

The python was swaying back and forth, moving in an odd, rhythmic pattern. It was almost as if the snake was dancing. Skinner could still feel his heart beating, but he was trying to mimick Quatermain. He locked his body into its present position, but he couldn't still the shiver running up and down his spine.

The snake's head was now a matter of inches from Skiner's foot. "Stay still," Quatermain mouthed.

Skinner almost fainted as he felt something cold and slimy cross his foot. After a minute, he was able to feel something else beneath the cold and slime. Weight. The thing was crushing his foot.

Skinner bit down hard on his lower lip, trying to kill the feeling of pain and fear. The coldness and slime now began to cover his other foot as well, doubling the intensity of the crushing pain. Skinner couldn't take it anymore.

Quatermain couldn't see his friend, but he could see the snake drop as Skinner pulled his feet out from beneath it. He could hear the sounds of Skinner grunting and moaning as he tried to flee into the jungle. And he could see the snake change direction and stop its steady crawl, now hurtling, lunging forward. Moving faster than its weight and size should have allowed. Quatermain quickly drew his pistol and fired.

The snake reacted to the bullet, but not the way Quatermain had hoped. Instead of thrashing and dying, the snake changed its direction, turning towards the spot from where the bullet had been fired. Quatermain fired again. The snake just kept moving forward, quickly, steadily. It hadn't even flinched when the bullet hit it. Quatermain fired again.

When Quatermain saw the snake was still moving, he lowered the weapon and realized his only choice was to get out of the mighty python's path. He jumped and rolled out of the way just as the snake's head came withing a couple of inches of his foot.

The snake again changed directions. Once again, it was hurtling towards Quatermain. Quatermain reached at the sheath on his lower leg and pulled out his machete. No sooner had he lifted the knife above his waist than he looked up and saw the python's mouth stretching open, poised to bite.

Quatermain grabbed the python by the jaw with his free hand. The head moved back and forth, struggling to push itself closer to Quatermain's face as the man struggled to hold the snake's head away from him. Still struggling, Quatermain lifted the machete and started hacking at the python. The knife left scratches on the snake's powerful body, but other than that it seemed to have no effect. The snake was now pushing harder, more furiously. Quatermain once again raised the knife, this time driving the blade into the snake with all of his might. The snake finally showed signs of agony, opening its mouth even wider and crying in its high pitched hiss. Quatermain had managed to drive the machete straight through the snake and into the ground.

The snake's pain seemed only momentary. It soon began to struggle again. Quatermain crawled back, trying to distance himself from the python as he watched the handle of the machete was back and forth. The handle moved forward. The python's mouth opened wide, revealing a set of fangs very similar to Mrs. Mina Harker's. Quatermain squeezed his eyes tightly, seeing no other option remaining. All he could do was expect death.

When Quatermain opened his eyes again, he was amazed to see the python sliding backwards. Soon, the python's tail had lifted high off the ground. The snake folded in the air, moving its head towards its tail. Skinner cried out in pain and the snake dropped once again to the ground.

Qyatermain reached for the closest rock at hand and hurled it at the  
snake. The Snake turned towards him once again, hissed loudly, and then slowly crawled back in the direction of the stream.

Quatermain moved briskly toward the sound of Skinner's groaning.

"It really is a jungle out here, isn't it, Mr. Q?" gasped Skinner.

"Skinner," said Quatermain. "Shut up and show me where it bit you. I can't see the bloody tooth prints."

A clod of dirt in the shape of a hand raised up from the ground and pointed to a spot in the air.  
"Look hard," came Skinner's weak voice.

Quatermain groaned as he reached in his pack for the anti-venom kit.


	8. Old Tiger

_DISCLAIMER: I own nothing... nothing!_

**LotRseer3350 – _Thanks again for all your reviews. It just wouldn't seem right starting a new chapter without one!_**

"There's no use arguing, Skinner," said Allan Quatermain. "We set up camp here."  
"Isn't it best we keep moving?" asked Rodney Skinner, who didn't like the thought of another python slinking into his tent while he was sleeping. Or something larger...  
"And not be able to see what's coming after us?" objected Quatermain. "Trust me, our chances are better staying put for the night."  
"You want me on guard duty again?" asked Skinner, obviously fearful of the task. He rubbed the spot on his arm that the snake had plunged its venomous fangs into.  
"No," said Quatermain. "You need your rest. I'll stand watch for tonight."

The tent flap flew up into the air and then dropped as Skinner went inside. Ironically, for once he could not get a wink of sleep.

Meanwhile, Quatermain sat on a stump and leaned against his rifle, watching and listening to his surroundings. He began to ponder the mystery before him. Who was ultimately responsible for the killings on the mainland? How did this island fit into the picture? What were the creatures the League had watched from inside the Nautilus? What was their purpose? And what was the connection between the monster and the missing student Victor Frankenstein? Several theories began to form in Quatermain's mind. He wouldn't be able to prove any of them without deeper investigation.

> > > > > >

On the other side of the island, Mina Harker and Captain Nemo had also set up camp for the night. They were both tucked peacefully into their own tents.

Mina awoke to a quiet but unpleasant sound. The snapping of a twig. She laid wide-awake, completely frozen and intently listening for another sound. After a moment or two of stark silence, she heard the soft patter of nearby footprints. They stopped for a moment. Mina waited for them to pass. When the sound picked up once again, it was obvious that the footsteps were moving closer to the tent.

Mina silently crept forward and pushed back the flap of her tent. She saw nothing. The footprints in the sand in front of the tent indicated that whoever she had heard had turned and run in the opposite direction.

Mina climbed out of the tent and looked all around her, scanning for some sign of the thing that had made the footprints. The creature emerged from behind a thick tree. Mina spotted him too late. The creature was clenching a blowgun between its yellow teeth. And it was aimed straight at Mina.

Captain Nemo heard footprints as well. As he started to rise to investigate, his tent flap was slowly pulled back. Nemo reached for his sword, but he was stopped by a sharp stinging pain in his neck. He noticed the blowgun clenched in the intruder's teeth. Then the world began to spin around him.

> > > > > >

The next day, Allan Quatermain and Rodney Skinner spent hours trying to retrace their steps.  
"We're going to die," moaned Skinner. "Out here. In this wretched jungle. We're going to die here."  
"Skinner, shut up," drawled Quatermain.  
"We're surrounded by all kinds of terrible creatures," lamented Skinner,  
"But naturally," said Quatermain. "They call it a bloody jungle for a bloody reason."

Suddenly, Quatermain stopped hiking. He just froze in his tracks. He then slowly lifted his rifle and aimed it at a spot somewhere in the brush.  
"Oh, no," Skinned muttered softly. "Now what?"

As if in answer, an orange and white striped beast leapt from the foliage and tackled Quatermain, knocking the rifle from his hands.

Quatermain shook his head from side to side, trying to keep the tiger from biting into it. He would have rather tangled with the python again.

Quatermain pulled himself below the beast, trying to lower itself beneath reach of the tiger's jaws. As he predicted, the tiger attempted to stick its head between its front legs and failed.  
"Do something!" Quatermain called to Skinner. The tiger was backing up, trying to bite at Quatermain. It managed to move its paws over the hunter to hold him still. Skinner looked at his feet for some kind of weapon, but found nothing.

Quatermain grabbed the tiger's two front legs and pushed them aside as hard as he could. He then rolled himself onto his stomach and pulled himself out from underneath the tiger as fast as he could. He ran for his rifle, but the tiger had its powerful paws on the gun before Quatermain did.

Skinner was hiding behind a fallen tree limb.  
"What is it with you and old tigers?" he called out.

The tiger and Quatermain stared each other down, waiting to see who would strike first. When Quatermain was confident it wasn't going to be the tiger, he pulled his machete. The tiger quickly clawed it from his hand.

Suddenly, another figure leapt from behind the brush. This time, the figure was human. A dark skinned young boy with long black hair, dressed only in a loincloth. The boy was holding a spear that appeared to be hand crafted from wood and stone. He growled at the tiger as if he was another animal

The tiger turned to the boy and began to claw in the air. The boy dodged back and forth. He began to move around the large cat. The tiger followed him. They were circling each other now. Moving like two prized fighters. Boxers in the Queen's navy.

The tiger lunged. The boy pushed it back to the ground with his spear. The boy then jumped back as the tiger tried to claw his legs.

The boy now began to make low grunting noises. The tiger watched, its mouth opening wider and wider as the noises continued. The tiger barred its large white fangs. Fangs that put the gargantuan python to shame. The boy just grunted louder. It was as if the beast and the boy were challenging each other.

The beast lunged towards the boy. It moved away just as the spear plunged into the ground beside it. The boy removed the spear from the spot it had struck and tried again. Again, he missed. As he grasped the spear one more time, the tiger swung its paw against it and broke the weapon in half.

The boy now quickly moved back towards the brush, never turning his back on his opponent. He grabbed a wide stick and swung it in the tiger's face. As the tiger lunged forward again, the boy struck it over the head with his club. The tiger reared its head in pain and then tried again. Again, the boy clubbed him. The tiger now roared in fury. It sprung itself into the air and landed on the boy.

The boy grabbed the lion's powerful mouth and held it closed. The tiger struggled and struggled to get free, but the boy never seemed to lose his grip. He fastened his hand around the club before letting go of the tiger's nozzle. As the tiger tried to sink its teeth into the boy, the boy shoved the club into the tiger's mouth. The tiger's teeth quickly became embedded into the hard wood.

The boy then grunted and pushed at the tiger. In an amazing feat of strength, he managed to roll the tiger over onto its side!

The tiger soon came back to its feet. With murder in its eyes, it sunk its teeth deeper into the club, snapping the hard wood into pieces. It then turned its teeth to the boy once more.

Skinner finally managed to get his hands on a large rock. He threw it at the tiger, but it missed and hit the head of the spear instead. When the two stones hit each other, tiny sparks were created. The boy's eyes took on a new life as he watched this. He and the tiger raced to the broken spear, but the boy made it there first. Taking the head of the spear in one hand and the rock in the other, the boy began to frantically rub the two together. A small fire started on the ground before him.

The tiger growled in deep terror as it witnessed the burning flames. It then turned and bolted back into the jungle.

Quatermain slowly stepped forward and put out the fire.

He then took a good look at his rescuer.

**A/N – _What say you, readers? Who is this mysterious stranger? Review and let me know what you think._**


	9. Wolf Boy

_Disclaimer: I own no rights whatsoever to the titles and trademarks herein._

**A/N_: Now that that's settled. My apologies for taking so long with this latest update. I wanted to give more people a chance to respond to my challenge at the end of the last chapter. That and I've been busy adjusting to my first year of college.. I hope you find this chapter worth the long wait._**

**Sawyer Fan – _No guess? Where's your courage? And don't worry too much about Sawyer. We'll check back in with him soon._**

**LotRseer3350 – _Right on the nose with your guess. The story of the Jungle Book holds a special place in my heart. I was in my high school's production of the stage version. I played Rudyard Kipling's priest. _**

_**Anyway, on with our adventure.**_

The young man that had stared into the eyes of the tiger was no more than a young boy, about sixteen years old. Long, black, unruly hair hung far down the young boy's back in wild strands. It nearly blended in with the boy's dirt-colored skin, which was completely bare except for the loin cloth covering the odd youth's nakedness. The equally black eyes held something more animal than human.

As Quatermain studied his mysterious rescuer, the animal eyes studied him back. Their silent evaluation of each other lasted several moments before it was interrupted by Rodney Skinner's harsh voice.

"So what's this all about?"

The boy jerked back, taken by surprise. He turned around in several widening circles trying to identify the source of the obnoxious voice.

"He's quite insane," added the voice, causing the boy to jump back again.

"He can't see you," said Quatermain.

Now the boy was looking from Quatermain to the direction the voice was coming from, his wild eyes filled with bedevilment.

"You can't see me either," responded the disembodied voice. "What's it matter to him?"

"He doesn't know what to think of you," said Quatermain. "He hasn't seen anything like you before."

"Don't you mean he hasn't _not _seen..."

"Shut up, Skinner!" snapped Quatermain.

Skinner muttered to himself as a clump of earth flew up from the ground. The boy jumped back in more fear and confusion as the clump of earth began to take the form of a man's face. More clumps of dirt formed into arms and legs. Skinners coat and pack then flew up from their hiding place alongside the ground and completed the vision.

"Now he'll be able to recognize your form more clearly," said Quatermain.

"Really?" snapped the invisible man. "Maybe he'd recognize your form more clearly if you rubbed some mud in your face, too."

"Shut up, Skinner," repeated Quatermain.

The boy now stepped closer to the two strangers, still evaluating them with ancient eyes.

"You see," said Skinner. "I'm human. Just like you. Well, sort of."

"My name is Alan Quatermain," said the explorer. He extended a hand. The boy stepped back from it and then grunted and bared his teeth. Quatermain thumped a hand to his chest.

"Quat-er-main," he grunted slowly. "Quat-er-main."

"He can't understand a thing you're saying."

Quatermain ignored him and continued to thump his chest.

"Quat-er-main. Quat-er-main." He motioned towards Skinner. "Skin-ner." He thumped his chest again. "Quat-er-main."

The boy straightened his own back and then thudded his chest.

"Mow-g-li."

"What was that?" asked Skinner in shock.

"Mow-g-li. Mowgli," replied the visitor.

"Well," said Quatermain. "This is progress."

> > > > > >

Dr. Jekyll had immediately fallen asleep after the exhausting force of Mr. Hyde had left him. His dreams were filled with terrors. He saw visions of the ugly creatures that had surrounded him in his claustrophobic holding cell. He saw visions of the great white whale, Moby Dick, attempting to crush his frail body with his mighty, grinding teeth. He saw visions more terrifying than the others. Visions of the hulking Mr. Hyde mocking him, calling him a coward, telling him what a fool and what a failure he had become.

When Jekyll awoke from his terrors to observe Captain Nemo to his side, he was afraid that this might merely be another vision. His eyes were wide and bloodshot as he stared at the image of his friend. Finally, Nemo nodded, pleasantly but gravely, as if indicating to Jekyll that he was really there.

Jekyll still had to ask the question.

"Is it really you?"

Nemo nodded again. Jekyll was aware that tears were forming in his eyes. It had only been days, but it seemed more like years, more like centuries, since he had seen another human being. Since he had seen any living creature other than the terrible monsters.

"How long have you been here?" asked Jekyll. "How did they catch you?" Then a more terrible question formed in his mind. "And Mina? What has happened to Mina?"

Nemo answered none of the questions. He merely continued to study his surroundings.

"Now what?" asked Jekyll.

"We must notify the others of our location," said Nemo. "If only I could communicate with the Nautilus..."

"Is that possible?"

"I'd need something to build with," said Nemo. "An object that could produce sound waves. Something to amplify our transmit the waves. I'd need certain bits of clockwork and iron..."

There was a loud screech as the door of the cell was opened. Jekyll's eyes widened as he beheld the spectacle of the hunchback, escorted by two of the gray-skinned monsters that had visited him earlier.

"Ma-a-aaaaaaster wiiiiiiii-s-s-shesssss tooooo speeeee-eee-akkkk w-i-i-i-ttttth youuuuuuuuu."

"I won't go," whispered Jekyll.

"Ma-a-aaaaaaster iiinsissstss," said the hunchback.

"I won't go!" cried Jekyll, much more forcefully this time. He felt something a venomous feeling rising up from within him. Something more hideous than mere anger or vengeance. The spirit of Edward Hyde.

The feeling was soon diminished by a look in Captain Nemo's eyes.

"Don't resist," he said calmly. "It might be easier to just go."

Jekyll took a deep breath and forced his body to go limp as the creatures loosened his shackles and escorted him from the room.

Nemo watched the creatures leave, carrying Jekyll with them, and expected to hear the door screech shut behind them. Instead, the hunchback returned. For a moment he just looked at Nemo. Then, the hunchback reached towards Nemo's shackles and loosened them. Nemo studied the hunchback, unsure of his intentions. He then began to rub his sore wrists.

"Thank you," he said. The hunchback nodded in acknowledgement. Nemo began to stretch his arms and legs, groaning at the stiffness.

"Aaaarrreee yooooou h-h-huuuurrrrrt?"

"What did you just say?" asked Nemo.

"Aaaarrreee yooooou h-h-huuuurrrrrt?"

"No," said Nemo. "No, I'm not. Not too badly. Thank you."

"Ma-a-aaaaaaster wi-i-isss-sh-essss foooooooorrrr youuuuuu t-t-t-oooo bbbbbeeeeee ccccc-o-o-o-mmmmm-ffff-orrrr-t-t-tttabbbb-le."

The hunchback turned and began to move towards the doorway to the cell.

"And who is your master?" asked Nemo.

But the hunchback kept moving. Ignoring him.

As if...

_It's as if_, thought Nemo,_ he didn't even hear me._

And then Nemo heard the sound of the door screeching and slamming.

> > > > > >

Quatermain had tried to communicate more with the wild boy, Mowgli. He had shown him various objects and had slowly and painstakingly pronounced their names allowed.

Kni-ve. Com-pass. Band-dage-es. When the boy was able to pronounce the names himself, Quatermain began to demonstrate the items, even handing them over to the boy in order to let him try the devices for himself. The boy seemed intrigued by the tools, but his mind could not comprehend them or their purposes. The only item that seemed to attract his attention was a thick book with crude sketches of various animals littering its yellowed pages. The boy would point wildly at various pictures and grunt syllables and words of his own. Words completely unfamiliar to Quatermain and Skinner.

Quatermain tried his best to communicate the idea that he and Skinner were lost. Mowgli, the wild boy, just gazed at him uncomprehendingly. Quatermain calmly continued to try to communicate, through words, gestures, and occasional drawing in the dirt, his message, with Skinner the whole time, in his usual optimistic manner, telling Quatermain in so many words. Suddenly, Mowgli leapt from position he had been in, sitting on his knees with his hands on the ground in front of him, his brown arms suspending his weight. He bounded off into the foliage beyond.

Quatermain stared off into the brush in confusion. Skinner opened his mouth to voice some sort of glib remark when the boy reappeared, waving his hand towards his person, obviously motioning for Quatermain and Skinner to follow him.

Skinner had been against following the boy into the jungle.

"Do we no who this is?" asked Skinner. "What this is? Can we trust him?"

Quatermain kept silencing Skinner, determined not to lose Mowgli's lead. The boy moved swiftly on both hands and feet, all four barely touching the dirt and leaves below. He moved swiftly, never hesitating to consider direction. He seemed to know exactly where he was moving. He moved as easily as Quatermain would have through his tiny village back in Kenya.

Mowgli led Skinner and Quatermain into a small cave. Inside, they were completely shielded from the howling jungle wind outside. Night had fallen.

As soon as the two Englishmen were comfortable seated, Mowgli disappeared into the black darkness outside.

"So, what is he?" asked Skinner. "What is he doing here?"

"He's a human boy," said Quatermain. "Human as you or I. Obviously Indian."

"Indian? Like one of those chaps Columbus happened upon?"

"No, you bloody fool. Like an actual native of the country India. No sign of family. He must have been orphaned."

"How did he get here?" asked Skinner.

"I can't imagine. I'd rather not question that," said Quatermain.

"He acts as if he's never seen another human being before."

"He probably hasn't."

"What, was he raised by monkeys?"

"No. Wolves, more likely."

"What do you mean wolves?" questioned Skinner.

"I've seen enough animals to know what their tendencies are. This boys movement and sound patterns are closer to canus than to ape. If he was raised by any type of animal, it was definitely the wolf."

"If he has so many tendencies of a wolf, why aren't you worried he might try and eat us? There is such a thing as cannibals, you know."

Quatermain just laughed at Skinner. Their strange host returned, his arms filled with various plants and fruits. He dropped them and then began to gather the items into three piles.

"There's your answer," said Quatermain. He looked at his host and slowly pronounced, "Thank you."

The boy repeated the words and then swiftly peeled a banana and removed a huge chunk of it with his teeth. Quatermain eagerly did the same. Skinner remained untrusting and skeptical, but finally he joined in the feast as well.

Quatermain started up another speech lesson. Mowgli began to share stories of his own. Through a combination of grunts, gestures, and drawings in the style Quatermain had shown him, he began to inform his guests about Baloo, the gray bear; Akela, the leader of the wolf pack; Tabaqui, the foolish jackal; Bagheera, the wise old panther; and, finally, Kaa and Shere-Khan, the python and the tiger that Quatermain and Skinner had already encountered. He also tried to tell some story about a mysterious red flower. It was now the boy who was receiving uncomprehending gazes.

When Quatermain felt a shiver and noticed Skinner was experiencing some discomfort as well, he backed out of the cave, communicating to his host as clearly as he could that he would return and was not attempting to desert or be ungrateful towards his rescuer.

In moments, Quatermain returned with a bundle of wood, which he soon used to start bright flames of fire. Mowgli danced excitedly around the fire, pointing and shouting, "The red flower! The red flower!"

After Mowgli had settled down, Quatermain took several minutes to inquire about Dr. Jekyll, Tom Sawyer, Captain Nemo, and Mina Harker. Mowgli, through motions and the few words he could pronounce, affirmed that he had seen Mina and Nemo.  
"Where?" asked Quatermain excitedly. "In the morning, can you show us where you saw them?"

Mowgli nodded. He then moved to a corner of the cave, rolled into a ball much like a dog would, and soon was snoring. Before falling asleep, Quatermain told Skinner, "I think we found our guide."

**A/N: _That's it for now. Let me know what you think, and I will try to update again as soon as possible, if I can find time between homework. I'll try to feature Tom Sawyer in the next chapter. _**


	10. Christmas Memories

_Disclaimer – Here's the obligatory disclaimer. I don't own any type of legal rights to the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Period._

**A/N: _Seasons Greetings! I've decided to devote a good portion of this chapter to Tom Sawyer, though I wasn't planning on this at first. I've also decided to write this chapter with the Spirit of Christmas in mind. Consider it my Christmas present to all of my readers._**

"Aunt Polly! Aunt Polly!" Tom Sawyer called cheerfully, nudging his aunt. He was a teenager now. He was far beyond childhood innocence. But on this December morning, something miraculous was happening. Something more miraculous than flying reindeer or jolly old St. Nicholas.

"It's snowing!" said Tom. Aunt Polly grimaced. She was ready to scold the boy, well aware of his tendency to fib, or at least stretch the truth. But even Aunt Polly was not immune to the joy and magic of the holiday. Noting the sincerity in her nephew's expression, Aunt Polly ventured to a window.

"Praise the Lord!" she exclaimed. "Bless my soul! It really is."

Indeed, little circles of white were falling slowly to the ground. Banks of the same white had already collected beneath them. White like innocence. White like purity. White like life.

Tom Sawyer groaned as he awoke from his dream. The pain rushing through his entire body reminded him that he had come from a very pleasant dream to a very unpleasant reality. Something about the dream had been so real. The snow hadn't, of course. It never snowed down the Mississippi. Sawyer had always hoped it would, though. He had only heard such words as snowflakes and blizzards, and he had always wanted to see them for himself. The last time Sawyer had actually seen snow was in Mongolia, and that only brought back more unpleasant memories. Memories of hatred. Memories of death.

Sawyer's memories were interrupted by the entrance of the hunchback.

"Heeerrre's yo-o-ouuur foooooood," groaned Quasimodo. He set a plate piled with steaming food down on the cold cell floor. Two of Frankenstein's monsters removed the shackles from Sawyer's wrists.

"Thank you," said Sawyer. He shoved his hands into the tray, bringing his ice cold hands back to life with the hot food.

As his hands began to burn, his mind journeyed back to that Christmas past. He remembered sitting at a feast, Aunt Polly, the preacher, the judge, Huckleberry Finn, and Becky Thatcher all seated at the table around him. There were other faces as well. Faces he'd never be able to put names to.

Sawyer's mind went back to that morning. There hadn't been snow. But he and Aunt Polly had been excited about something. What was it? It seemed he had given Aunt Polly a spectacular Christmas gift. But Sawyer, for the life of him, could not imagine what it had been.

What was it?

> > > > > >

Dr. Jekyll looked with disgust for the first time at his mysterious host. The man was gaunt and pale but with a handsome, boyish face and jet black hair. He gestured to one of the strange creatures that were surrounding him. The creature quickly pulled a chair to Jekyll and invited him to sit in it. Jekyll refused.

"Dr. Jekyll, I presume?" said the man. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Dr. Victor Frankenstein."

"You're no doctor," spat Jekyll.

"I'll admit it's a self-appointed term. It was no use waiting for those fools at the university to hand me the degree."

"You're a kidnapper. A murderer. A fiend."

"Let's not resort to name-calling. Besides, there are a few accusations I could throw back at you, Dr. Jekyll. Or should I say, Mr. Hyde?"

"Why, you…!"

Jekyll felt the rage burning up inside of him, setting his whole self on fire. He could almost see his skin turning orange. Two of Frankenstein's minions quickly restrained Jekyll as he lunged for Frankenstein.

"Calm down, doctor. It is not Hyde I'm interested in. It's Jekyll."

This quickly calmed the doctor. Even before he had invented Hyde, he could not recall a time he had been wanted. There had always been more respected doctors in his field. Some had even called Jekyll a quack. After he created Hyde, it was the brute that received all the attention. Edward Hyde made newspaper headlines. Edward Hyde was wanted by at least three of the world's police forces. Edward Hyde, in the end, was who the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen had come seeking in order to join their ranks.

Now, at Frankenstein's last words, Jekyll's rage disappeared completely and was replaced by utter curiosity.

"You've always been an idol of mine," said Frankenstein. "Truly the man I wanted to be when I grew up. I have a scientific project I've been working on. The ultimate breakthrough in medical science. And I would like you to observe my experiments and offer your expertise."

"And if I refuse?" queried Jekyll.

At this, a distinct threat appeared in Victor Frankenstein's eyes. It was soon repeated in the eye of every other creature in the room.

"Things will be much to your advantage if you don't," said Frankenstein.

A faint smile crossed Jekyll's lips.

"Why not?" said Jekyll. "I am completely at your service, Dr. Frankenstein."

> > > > > >

Tom Sawyer closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember that Christmas morning.

As hard as he tried, he could not remember the special gift he had given his beloved aunt. But there were so many details he could remember as surely as if they were happening right now.

Huckleberry Finn looked at Tom Sawyer and laughed. The two chuckled as they recounted the adventures they had shared during the year gone past.

"So," drawled Tom. "What ya reckon you're gonna make for your New Year's Resolution?"

"Do you even know what one of them things is?"

"I reckon I do. Aunt Polly and the preacher sure speak of it often."

"So, Mr. Thomas Sawyer, what do you have in mind for one of these resolutions?"

"I reckon I'm gonna start rememberin' to say my prayers before bedtime. How about you?"

"That's a pathetic resolution," said Huck. "You need a resolution more like mine. My resolution is to join a pirate crew."

"A pirate crew?"

"Yes. Join a pirate crew. And sail off to Zanzibar. There's a great treasure that's buried there, and I'm gonna go dig it up. Not that I'd have to dig it up in the next year. Just that I'd have to join the pirate crew next year."

"That's a silly resolution," said Tom.

"It is not so," said Huck. "And if you think so, then it's just more treasure for me."

"I didn't mean nothin' by it, Huck," said Tom. "I'll be a pirate, too. It sounds like fun."

"All right, then," replied Huck. "How about the two of us be a crew? Just you and me?"

Tom Sawyer pulled a parcel out of his pocket and handed it to Huck.

"This might come in handy when we're pirates," he said.

Huck pulled back the old newspaper away and found a small box. Inside was a brand new pocket knife, the blade still sharp and shiny.

"Why, Tom Sawyer, how did you ever get a hold of this?" asked Huck.

"I earned it."

"And how did you earn it?"

"White-washing fences."

The two laughed again. A merry Christmas laugh, jollier than Santa Claus himself.

"I got somethin' for you, too," said Huck. "It ain't wrapped up fancy or nothin'."

Huck pulled a small black object out of his pocket. After he handed it to Sawyer, the other boy realized it was a bullet.

"I pulled it outta an old tree. I reckon' it came from the gun of that insane outlaw, Puddin'head whats-his-name. It's not as expensive as your pocket knife or anything, but it's a whole lot more interesting."

Carolers slowly gathered nearby. The joyous chords of "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" began to fill the air. Sawyer and Finn just looked at each other conspiratorially, already plotting their first voyage as pirates.

Tears began to form in Sawyer's eyes as he remembered his past. By comparison, his future definitely looked bleak.

> > > > > >

Henry Jekyll gasped as he looked at the vast stone chamber around him. This great room was Frankenstein's laboratory. After he was through with the great width and depth of the lab, Jekyll began to look at the doctor's strange equipment. Blue volts of electricity were surging in strange generators overhead. Tall, clear tubes were filled with a strange formula of chemicals. All around the room were stone slabs.

It was with great horror that Jekyll beheld what the slabs were holding. The smell of burning and chemicals just barely covered the sour stench of death. Corpses were lying in a meticulous pattern around the laboratory. Jekyll felt shock and terror as he gazed upon what was once human life.

The bodies were all at different stages of decay. Some had been buried in cemeteries for months. Others had just recently been pulled from morgues and mortuaries. Others hadn't even had a chance to see those. They had been brought to this place immediately after death. Despite the amount of carnage Jekyll had already seen in his lifetime, he now felt nauseous.

Frankenstein looked around the room and began shouting orders. Monsters in each corner of the room began turning cranks and pulling levers. Outside, thunder crashed and lightning filled the sky. Electricity shot from the ceiling to the slabs below. After minutes of just the roar of electricity, the bodies seemed to move. Jekyll thought it was just the force of the electric shock, but then he though he noticed a nearby set of fingers flexing…

"Stop! Stop!" he shouted. The roar ended. The bodies were motionless once again.

"Don't listen to him, you idiot!" shouted Frankenstein. "Obey my orders! Start the machine again!"

"You're insane," gasped Jekyll.

"I thought you'd have something more scientific to say about my work," said Frankenstein. "You know, from one doctor to another."

"You're not a doctor," said Jekyll.

"I thought we'd already been over this," said Frankenstein. "Whether you like it or not, you're part of this project now."

"Never! I'll never help you!"

"You will, doctor. You will or more people will die. People you care about. Like Mrs. Harker, for example."

"No!" cried Jekyll. He lunged forward, letting all the rage and hatred he felt inside overtake him. His skin began to change color. His face contorted. Muscles bulged and grew over his body.

A dart struck him on the back. A monster lowered its blow gun and looked at Jekyll's unconscious body, still in an only half-transformed state.

"Take him back to his cell," said Frankenstein. "If he won't give us his cooperation, I'm afraid we'll just have to take it from him."

As a small group of the monsters carried Jekyll/Hyde away, Frankenstein looked around him, at his life's work, and at the one thing he feared more than anything else.

> > > > > >

Tom Sawyer looked up into the beautiful face of Becky Thatcher. The couple could hear the sound of carolers singing their sweet tunes someplace nearby. Their sweet strains were "Silent Night." Tom put his hand out and brushed away Becky's fiery red hair. He caressed her soft, fare forehead.

He slowly brought out her parcel.

"I want you to have this," he said.

The wrapping was cheap. Again, just old newspaper. Underneath was an ornate box. Becky opened it and gasped.

"Tom! You shouldn't have!"

Inside the box was a thin golden chain, a shining heart hanging to the end of it. Tom took the necklace and clasped it around Becky's pretty neck.

"How could you afford it?"

"That doesn't matter," said Tom. "All that matters is that I did."

She reached out her slender arms and took Tom by the shoulder, bringing his face close to hers. Her red lips pressed against his waiting mouth. It was slow and beautiful. A Christmas kiss.

"Merry Christmas," Becky whispered in Tom's ear.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered back.

Though Sawyer knew it couldn't have snowed that day, he couldn't help imagining the white flakes falling around him and his best girl. White for innocence. White for purity.

Sawyer felt a bright, shining hope deep within him.

"If I ever make it out of this alive," he muttered softly, "I'm going to find Becky and tell her I love her."

**A/N: _I'm really much more cheerful than this chapter might indicate. Honest. Anyway, that's this chapter. May all your dreams and wishes come true for you this holiday season._**


	11. An Ultimatum

_DISCLAIMER – I own no rights whatsoever to the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Period. Thank you._

**A/N – _I'm terribly sorry this update has taken so long. College… ughhh!... you know. Anyway, let's pick up right we're we left off…_**

Captain Nemo raised his tired head as the monsters led his cellmate back into the room. Jekyll had reverted to his completely human form, much to the gratitude of the tired creatures. Still, the creatures dropped him as if he had been as heavy as Hyde. They turned and slowly filed out of the cell, slamming and locking the door behind them.

Nemo looked at pity on his friend, who moaned and slowly rose to his knees. Jekyll bit his bottom lip hard to try to distract from the rest of his pain.

"Are you alright?" asked Nemo.

"It's horrible," moaned Jekyll. "I just want to die. I just want to die." Jekyll repeated the terrible phrase over and over again. Nemo tried to use gentle words to calm him. In response, Jekyll crawled around the cell like an animal, still groaning his grievous chorus. He was taken off guard by a swift kick that knocked him on his back. He looked up with startled eyes into the grave face of Captain Nemo.

"Come to your senses, man," said Nemo. "Don't make me sick. They call you an extraordinary gentleman."

"Hyde's the extraordinary one," moaned Jekyll. He began to rock back and forth and sob. Nemo kicked him once again.

"What did you see?" asked Nemo.

"I can't say," sobbed Jekyll. "I won't say."

"Whatever it is, we need to stop it," said Nemo. "I've been thinking of the equipment we would need to build a transmitter."

Jekyll brought himself to his feet only to move to a corner of the cell. He sat with his back resting against the cold stone wall as Nemo listed several mechanical items.

As Nemo was talking, Quasimodo entered the cell. He looked at Nemo as he set two heaping plates of food on the floor. Jekyll eyed him suspiciously as he left.

"Are you sure it was wise to keep talking like that while that _thing_ was in here?" asked Jekyll.

"Don't worry. He can do no harm to us."

"Why? Is he dumb?"

"Quite. But not in the way you think. He's deaf and dumb. Physically incapable of hearing."

Nemo then began to elaborate on his list.

> > > > > >

Quatermain and Skinner had spent many hours trying to teach Mowgli to communicate. To cover more of the island, they would talk to him as they hiked. They now looked at Mowgli in incredulity.

Quatermain had asked Mowgli if he had seen any signs of human beings on the island. Mowgli's reply had been surprising.

Mowgli described a building. He described a castle made out of stone. Smoke billowed from chimneys. Strange lights and sounds came from the windows. Strange creatures entered and left the building.

"Can you take us to this stone castle?" asked Quatermain.

Mowgli nodded and leapt forward, like a wolf pouncing on its prey. He then began to run, with Quatermain and Skinner following closely at his heels.

Eventually, the savage slowed down. Skinner suspected that even the wild boy had run out of energy, but Quatermain suspected that the boy was only showing compassion for his new traveling companions. Perhaps Mowgli understood that these mere mortals were easily fatigued.

The three sat down, but Mowgli quickly leapt back to his feet. His long hair seemed to bristle as he began to slowly pace. Quatermain and especially Skinner eyed the boy suspiciously. And then Quatermain's instinct caused him to imitate Mowgli's behavior. Footsteps could now be heard approaching.

As Skinner rose to his feet, a horde of the strange monsters they had encountered before advanced from each side of the trio.

Quatermain drew his weapon, only to be taken aback by what sounded like a human voice.

"Pu-ut doo-oo-wwwn yourrrrrr we-a-ppp-ooon."

Quatermain obeyed. He was startled to see one of the creatures step forward.

"Ouuur maaa-sss-teer wii-iishe—s…"

The creature stopped and began to make guttural noises. He was clearing his throat!

"Mr. Skinner and Mr. Quatermain, our master would like to offer you an ultimatum. He has no use for you, but he can not have you interfere with his work. Therefore, if you would be willing to leave this island now, we will make no attempt to stop you. However…"

"Do you have our friends?"

"Our master requires their assistance."

"Then we will not leave. We are a league. As a league, we must stick together. No member can be left behind."

The monster continued.

"If that is your choice, you realize we will have to destroy you."

"Very well."

"Very well," said the monster. "You may pick up your weapon now."

Skinner, Quatermain, and Mowgli looked in horror as the monsters raised swords and axes, murder in their eyes.

**A/N – _There you have it. Read and Review, and hopefully I can update again soon._**


	12. Nautilus, Do You Read Me?

_Disclaimer: I own no rights whatsoever to the titles and trademarks herein._

Quatermain quickly drew his twin pistols and aimed them at the monsters. Each time the bullets struck the creatures, the creatures would stager back, but no serious damage appeared to be done.

Mowgli fought surprisingly well for an unarmed mortal. His sheer strength and agility kept the monsters away from him, if only by the length of their weapons. Still, the times the sharp blades touched the savage's body were few and far between, and the boy barely reacted to the injuries.

Skinner was by far the best of the fighters. As much as the monsters tried, they could not adjust to battling an unseen opponent. Tree branches would fly up and knock several creatures to the ground, and the creatures wouldn't know what hit them.

As the blade of a sword dropped through the air and nearly landed on Mowgli's shoulder, the boy ducked out of the way and managed to twist the weapon out of the attacking monster's hand. The sword dropped into the sand below and skidded towards Quatermain.

The famed hunter holstered his pistols and took the sword in hand. Sparks flew as blade crashed against blade. Soon Quatermain found himself hacking limbs off of his opponents. It was actually a rather comical sight. The monsters would still show no pain but would look blankly at the places their body parts had once been. Quatermain found it especially gratifying to remove legs, as the monsters would topple over after a few seconds and not seem to understand why.

As skilled as he was, Quatermain found he had trouble holding his own against a battle axe, especially when it was wielded masterfully by the talking monster. Quatermain lost his balance and fell backwards over a steep cliff. He felt himself rolling, and then everything around him faded to black.

The creaking of the dungeon door woke Dr. Jekyll. He looked from his companion, who was keenly staring at the door, to a puddle of water below. The face of Mr. Edward Hyde looked up from the puddle.

"I hope they're bringing dinner, Henry," rasped Hyde. "I'm starved!"

"Calm yourself, Edward," muttered Jekyll.

Quasimodo entered. The sound of clanging could be heard as he placed several metallic objects on the ground.

"He must have read our lips!" exclaimed Nemo excitedly. "It's all the parts we need to build a radio transmitter."

Quasimodo released Jekyll and Nemo from their shackles.

"I'll need your assistance, doctor," said Nemo. Jekyll gazed down into the puddle.

"Did you hear that, Edward?" he asked. "He needs my assistance, not yours. Mine!"

Quatermain's head throbbed as he awoke from his slumber. He was hoping to see the walls of his familiar room in Kenya. Instead, he awoke to the harsh realities of nature.

He was still alive. He could at least thank the Lord for that. He rolled onto his back, howling in pain as he did so. He looked above him and saw the steep hill he had rolled down. It truly was a miracle that he was still alive.

In a moment, a dark shadow fell over Quatermain. Long, black hair fell into his face. Then Quatermain felt himself being hoisted up. His entire body felt sore, but nothing seemed to be broken. Another miracle.

"Where's Skinner?" Quatermain asked Mowgli.

The wolf boy just shrugged his shoulders. Quatermain cursed.

"Those infernal creatures must have got him, too!" he said. "We don't have a moment to lose, boy. To that bloody stone castle!"

After hours that seemed like years, Jekyll and Nemo had finished constructing the device. Nemo immediately began hitting buttons and flipping switches.

"Nautilus!" he cried. "Nautilus! Do you read me?"

Footsteps fell behind the two men. They spun around to behold Victor Frankenstein.

"Well, well, well," said Frankenstein. "What have we here? It looks like you boys and I need to have a little talk."


	13. The Mystery Revealed

_Disclaimer: I own no rights whatsoever to the titles and trademarks herein._

**Sawyer Fan – _Thank you for being such a faithful reader and reviewer. I apologize for neglecting Sawyer for the last couple of chapters. I shall soon make amends for that._**

**LotRseer3350 – _And, of course, thanks to you, my most loyal reviewer. I'm glad that last cliffhanger kept you in suspense, but now the wait is over. _**

Mina Harker was hungry.

She lifted her head and looked around her dank, tiny cell. Her arms and shoulders were sore, but she willed herself not to feel the pain. She willed herself to focus on her present situation.

She had been well provided for, as she assumed Captain Nemo had been. Daily the hideous creatures that had captured her and her companion would come into her cell and release her from her shackles. They would then leave her alone to eat the hot meals they allowed her and to stretch and walk around her prison.

The food wasn't good enough. She still hungered a primitive, murderous hunger.

Mina didn't merely hunger. She lusted. She lusted for blood.

She had once found what she thought would make an appropriate meal. The monsters had unshackled her and left her alone. While stretching and walking, she had found something in a corner of her cell. Something living.

A rat. A nice, juicy rat.

Greedily she had drilled two tiny holes into the rat's body with her sharp teeth. Then, something of the old spendthrift returned to her. She took only a small sip of the rat's blood and then returned it to its corner.

Each time she was unshackled, she would sip a little more from the rat's carcass.

But now the rat had gone completely dry. And it had only whetted Mina's blood lust.

As Mina stood there in her shackles, her toes barely touching the ground, her arms aching miserably, she realized she needed something else to invest her lust in.

She began to think of her dead husband.

That hadn't been lust. That had been love. True love. He had treated Mina the way no man had since. Others had tried, but they couldn't arouse the same feelings in her that Jonathan Harker had.

Some of the others that had tried were other members of the League. Sometimes, Mina cursed the vampire bite she had received just for making her eligible for membership as an "extraordinary gentleman." She wasn't even a man at all!

Mina was proud of being a member of the League. It cheered her that her powers, powers which were of themselves evil, were being used to help the poor and defenseless. But it made her uncomfortable to work so closely with men she knew were in love with her.

She liked those men. She liked Henry Jekyll. She liked Tom Sawyer. They were sweet. They treated her like a lady, even if sometimes that meant patronizing her. Sometimes, Mina even felt guilty about the power she had over them. She wished she could love at least one of them back, the way they loved her.

The only member of the League she had loved was Mr. Dorian Gray. He had betrayed her. He had turned out to be a fake, as ugly within as he was handsome without. After that, she knew she could never love anyone else again.

But she had loved her husband. She knew she had loved her husband.

She willed herself to focus no longer.

> > > > > >

Meanwhile, Tom Sawyer thought about Mina. He thought about her long, exotic hair. He thought about her vivid eyes. He thought about her extraordinary curves. He, like Mina, lusted.

He knew Mina didn't have the same feelings for him that he had for her, but he couldn't help hoping she would change her mind. Besides, right now it seemed indulging himself in fantasies was the only way he could escape the pain of his present reality.

Sawyer snapped out of the fantasy. He was filled with shame. That was lust. Nothing but savage, animal lust. He felt especially guilty knowing his lustful thoughts were about someone he worked so closely with.

With Becky, it hadn't been lust. It had been love. He was sure of it.

"If I ever get out of this," he said to himself again, "I'm going to find Becky and tell her I love her."

All of a sudden, Sawyer stopped thinking about his women. He saw the smiling face of Allan Quatermain.

Where was Quatermain? He had become like a father to Tom. He was Tom's friend and mentor. Once Quatermain had even taken a knife for Tom.

Was he still in the jungle somewhere? Or was he in a cell nearby? Had he been captured and taken here as well? Was he hurt?

Fear caused Saywer's body to go cold and numb. The pain and anxiety, once again, caused Sawyer to fall unconscious.

> > > > > >

Dr. Jekyll and Captain Nemo sat silent on their hard seats as they looked at the young Frankenstein, who was pacing back and forth in front of them and grinning smugly.

Finally, Dr. Jekyll broke the silence.

"You fiend!" he cried. "You murderer!"

Frankenstein's fists fell hard on the table, causing Jekyll and Nemo both to jump.

"You have no right to judge me!" he screamed. "You have no idea where I've been!"

Frankenstein took several deep breaths. His chest heaved as Jekyll had seen the creatures on the slabs.

"Let me tell you my story," said Frankenstein, now calm. "I had a mother once. I loved her very much. And she loved me. She was the only woman to ever love me. She died, much too soon.

"I was devastated. From that moment on, I realized my life had one purpose. To fight death. To stop people from dying. I decided that day that I would study to become a doctor. But as I studied, I found I was learning more from my own research than from my professors. I began to study the theories of the early alchemists. Though they were considered heretics, they believed it was possible to bring life from death.

"Of course, that old fool Watson advised me to pay no mind to the theories. Dr. Watson was a good friend and mentor, but in this case he was clearly wrong. I had theories of my own, and none of my teachers or classmates at the university showed proper respect for them. I needed to find a remote place for my research. I had heard legends of this island, and I knew if I came here no one would dare come after me."

Frankenstein paused. He took another deep breath. Again, his chest heaved.

"I had a theory that life came from electricity. I just needed electricity and a body to bring life to. I made a visit to the mainland and to the morgue one midnight to select my test subject."

"This is insane," said Nemo.

"But it worked, my dear captain," said Frankenstein. "It worked. Only, one body was not enough. I had to select multiple parts from multiple bodies to create the perfect experiment. Multiple visits to morgues and cemeteries were necessary. At last, my experiment was ready to be performed."

"But you weren't satisfied with only one experiment," said Jekyll.

"Not at all," said Frankenstein. "In fact, I was quite horrified. The creature I brought life to was far from a superhuman. It was an animal. And uncontrollable monster. I was forced to destroy it. Of course, then I had to find what I had done wrong and try again.

"The second experiment went much better than the first. Of course, the experiment was far from perfect. But at least this one was willing to take orders. I instructed it on how to collect more material for my experiments."

"By materials you mean more disturbed bodies," said Nemo.

"You make it sound so crude," said Frankenstein. "I was now doing my best to keep the bodies as close as possible to the condition they were found in. No more searching for perfect specimens. Not after the failure of my first experiment.

"The more experiments that were successful, the more helpers I gained. I taught them how to use row boats. I sent them out on missions to bring back as many bodies as possible. Soon, I had enough willing helpers to build this beautiful laboratory."

Frankenstein swung out his wide arms, indicating the immense stone castle around him.

"Is that how you justify murder?" said Nemo.

"Of course not," said Frankenstein. "That was the fault of those idiot policemen. Officers Guhber and Olaf were hiding in a morgue. They startled one of my experiments. If I had been there, I would have never allowed it to do what it did. But apparently, the flawed instincts of the experiment caused it to strangle both of the poor men.

"My experiments now knew how to murder. How to take lives. I didn't condone it, but it was necessary. It was part of learning to bring back life. I would personally give life back to all the men the experiments killed."

"And women and children!" said Jekyll. "You murderer! You monster!"

"And what of the murder of Zachary Schultz?" queried Nemo.

"He was trespassing on this island," said Frankenstein. "Several others had tried at others times as well."

"So you had them killed?" demanded Jekyll.

"I did nothing," insisted Frankenstein. "It was the monsters that felt threatened. They acted out of their own instinct."

"Murderer! Monster!" repeated Jekyll.

"I'm not a monster," said Frankenstein. "I'm just misunderstood. Don't you see? I'm trying to bring immortality to men. I am working on finding a flawless way to resurrect the dead."

"By turning them into monsters?" spat Jekyll. "That's your flawless plan?"

"The experiments are still flawed," said Frankenstein. "A project like this demands endless experimentation. Each experiment is more whole, more human than the last. My latest experiments can even speak like normal men do. Soon, I will have found the way to restore all dead to their former state.

"I need more helpers, though. The experiments are not yet sophisticated to perform the functions I need."

"What about your other helper?" demanded Nemo.

"Quasimodo?" asked Frankenstein. "He is my adopted ward. I took him when no one else would. His disfigurement had him labeled unholy from birth. No one else would take him but me. But Quasimodo is impaired as well. He can only do so much. That is why I require your assistance.

"Captain Nemo, with your craft I will be able to gather all of the materials I need from the mainland. I only have so many rowboats in my dock behind the castle. With your magnificent invention, I will be able to transport all of my experiments to the mainland and they will be able to collect all of the materials I need and bring them back here. I will finally have enough materials to experiment on to ensure that I am finally able to complete this project."

"Never!" cried Nemo, rising boldly to his feet. "I will never allow the Nautilus to be used to transport those murderers!"

"They're not murderers!" cried Frankenstein. "They were once human beings. As human as us three!

"After the new materials arrive here, I will require Dr. Jekyll's assistance. Dr. Jekyll, your theories are closer to those of the early alchemists than those of any other scientist I have yet met. With your help, surely we can restore humanity to my experiments."

"Never!" cried Jekyll. "We will never help you! You… You… QUACK!"

The last word thundered from the voice of Edward Hyde, accompanied by a thick tidal wave of saliva.

Frankenstein's calm demeanor was shattered as the heavy drool rolled off of his face.

"YOU WILL HELP ME!" he cried, his thundering voice mimicking that of Hyde's. "You have no choice. Don't forget that I have your friends in captivity. They serve no useful purpose here. They are being kept alive and comfortable only due to my decency as a human being. But if you do not comply with my requests, they will be severely harmed. Tom Sawyer will be severely maimed." Frankenstein paused. He looked deep into the eyes of Jekyll, which were now filling with red blood. "And, more importantly, Ms. Harker will be utterly destroyed."

"NOOO!" cried Jekyll. His muscles began to bulge. His flesh began to change its tone.

"Take them away," said Frankenstein, turning to his experiments. "Lock Jekyll into his cell until the beast within him is thoroughly worn out. Take the other and beat him severely."

As the creatures followed his instructions, Frankenstein continued to look the opposite way. His chest began to heave once again.


	14. Infiltration

_Disclaimer – Here's the obligatory disclaimer. I don't own any type of legal rights to the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Period._

**Sawyer Fan – _I'm glad I could relieve your worries about Sawyer. I'm even gladder that you're still enjoying this._**

**LotRseer3350 – _I'm also glad that you're still enjoying this, especially the "Mowgli angle." That Mowgli angle was really half the reason I decided to write this story in the first place._**

Allan Quatermain felt a sudden, unexplainable chill as he followed Mowgli through the thick leaves and tall plants of the sweltering jungle. Sweat trickled down his forehead and drenched his shirt. At least this wetness kept him cool.

Quatermain stopped only a short moment to take a drink of lake water from his canteen. There was too much to kill him already without worrying about death by dehydration.

At this point, Allan Quatermain would no longer allow himself to stop for anything, at least not for more than a few seconds. And those seconds would never add up to sixty. Not until his mission was accomplished.

Quatermain wouldn't stop to rest or even at night to sleep. He was glad that his guide didn't seem to mind. Mowgli never seemed to tire or need rest. He had a boundless energy that was clearly not the trait of a civilized human being.

The guide's rate was perfectly pleasing to Quatermain. He had spent too long on this island. He would not rest until he had reached his destination and was ready to turn towards home.

Quatermain had never thought he could miss London so much.

As determined as Quatermain was to stay focused on his path, his mind couldn't help wandering to thoughts of Mina Harker, Henry Jekyll, Nemo, Skinner, and Sawyer. It had been days since he'd seen most of them, hours since he'd last seen Skinner. That was more than enough time for terrible, terrible things to happen to them. Quatermain couldn't help feeling guilty. As the field team leader on this assignment, he was responsible for the personal safety of the League members that had come with him. He had arrived with five other people. If those other five were alive, Quatermain would do everything in his power to get them off the island.

"Uggh!" Quatermain cursed as the sharp edge of a tree branch roused him to reality. He looked down at his arm, at the dark red fluid running from the scrape. It reminded him of what his companions could be experiencing right then. There was no time to dwell on the possibilities of what might happen. It was essential that Quatermain keep his mind on the here and now.

"Quatermain!" yelled Mowgli, gesturing to Allan. "Come!"

Quatermain obeyed, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out as he wrapped his hand in a vine and prepared to climb the next steep slope.

Every step of the climb reminded Quatermain that he wasn't as young as he had been when he explored King Solomon's mines. Mowgli offered him his hand at the top of the slope and pulled the aging explorer to his feet.

Mowgli bounded on ahead, disappearing into a think clump of foliage. After a few seconds, the boy's face reemerged. Very slowly, the boy crept back towards Quatermain. Every step was slow and painstakingly planned. There was a look of deliberation on Mowgli's face. Quatermain stood as still as the ground on which his feet were planted and waited. Something was obviously wrong.

Mowgli grasped Quatermain by the shoulder and the two slowly crept back towards the bush. They yard before the bush felt like it was the length of an entire soccer field. Mowgli finally pushed through the leaves of the bush, moving gracefully and managing not to rustle a single leaf. Quatermain tried to do the same, and he cringed when the leaves crinkled.

When Quatermain reached the other end, his gaze followed Mowgli's outstretched finger. His heart began to beat faster as he beheld the tiger he and Skinner had wrestled with earlier. The mighty tiger Shere-Khan was sleeping only a few feet away.

> > > > > >

The crew members of the Nautilus stared with white, empty eyes as their new passengers came aboard. Their fright barely matched that of their captain.

Captain Nemo had only felt guilt and shame during a moment he would normally have felt pride and love. He had watched his vessel emerge from the waters of the Ocean and glide gracefully into the shallow pool at Frankenstein's hidden dock.

He had then watched with horror as his first mate opened the main hatch and saw the sharp blades of over one hundred and one swords and spears aimed straight at his face.

This was stalling for time. Nemo found the torture he had been through easy to endure. It was painful, but he had faith in a better existence beyond pain and suffering. The only reason he had capitulated to Frankenstein's demands was to keep the deranged young man satisfied.

Nemo had opened communications with the crew of the Nautilus and told the crew exactly what Frankenstein wanted him to.

If Frankenstein's plan was successful millions of Germans and foreign tourists would be slaughtered. If Frankenstein's plan failed, Nemo and his friends would suffer and die.

Nemo couldn't let either of those things happen. There had to be another way.

In the meantime, Nemo could only do what he had always done. He could captain the Nautilus. And he could think.

Nemo looked at Frankenstein, and Frankenstein shot back a warning and a threat with his eyes. Nemo reluctantly boarded the Nautilus and prepared for the longest voyage of his life.

> > > > > >

Allan Quatermain's lungs and heart felt ready to burst as he held his breath and tiptoed after Mowgli past the sleeping tiger. Although Quatermain managed to present a calm outward appearance, his heart was beating so hard within that Quatermain feared it would burst from his chest.

Suddenly, Shere-Khan moved. Quatermain and Mowgli froze in place. Sweat ran from their foreheads and left a salty taste in their mouths.

The tiger's eyes were wide and alert. Shere-Khan straightened his back and looked out across the jungle.

Quatermain wanted to die with his eyes closed, but he couldn't stop watching the magnificent tiger. He stared intently at the tiger with his own wide, alert eyes. For a second, his eyes met that of Shere-Khan. Quatermain and Shere-Khan stared into each other's souls.

Then Shere-Khan closed his eyes and his whole body sagged like a rag doll's. Instead of a growl, Allan Quatermain and Mowgli were met with a mighty snore.

After Quatermain and his guide had tiptoed long enough to put an adequate distance between themselves and the tiger, they began to run. They kept running as if they were never going to stop.

They did stop. The two were both out of breath, their chests heaving, their voices coming in wheezes. Mowgli pointed and gasped, "Stone castle."

Quatermain thought he might have been dreaming, but if he was dreaming, he was having a nightmare.

The first thing Quatermain saw was a billow of black smoke. The smoke was flowing like vomit from a freakishly shaped and constructed chimney.

The word "castle" was far from an apt description. The fortress was definitely the size and vastness of a palace, but the walls resembled those of a prison more than a castle. Barbed wire fences made the concrete walls even less welcoming.

The final feature of the castle, the one that horrified Quatermain the most, was the army of sentries posted around the perimeter. At least fifty undead soldiers were marching around the building, carrying rifles and bayonnettes.

Quatermain and his guide crept closer to the fortress.

"We need a plan," Quatermain whispered into Mowgli's ear. Mowgli solemnly nodded in agreement.

Quatermain studied the guards, hoping to find some clue of how he could sneak past them. As he studied the dirt-stained rags that covered the guards, he thought of Rodney Skinner. He remembered watching the invisible man lift clods of dirt and rub them over his form. He had a plan.

He took the knapsack off of his back and pulled out the two most ragged outfits he could find. He then proceeded to tear them and rub them in dirt. He threw one of the now even more ragged outfits to his jungle guide.

"Put this on," he instructed Mowgli.

After the two were in the tattered garb, Quatermain began to rub dirt all over himself. Mowgli did the same.

Mowgli and Quatermain slowly made their way to the barbed wire fence surrounding the stone castle. Quatermain could hear the sound of a marching platoon coming in from behind. He resisted the temptation to turn and watch, but just crouched and looked at the ground.

As the marching monsters passed, Mowgli and Quatermain joined the rear, even imitating the monster's distinctive swagger. The monsters opened the fence and Quatermain and Mowgli followed them through.

Quatermain felt uncomfortable as he and Mowgli followed the monsters to the main entrance of the lair. He could sense that the creatures felt the same way. Their eyes shifted. Their nostrils flared. It was as if they could sense the fresh life in Quatermain and Mowgli's veins.

Quatermain heard a grunt as the usually graceful Mowgli tripped and stumbled to the ground. The tattered cloak Quatermain had fashioned for him slid off. Soon, sharp bayonets were aimed at the wolf boy.

Mowgli propped himself up with the palms of his hands and threw his feet up at the bayonets, knocking the monsters holding them onto their back. Quatermain grabbed another two of the monsters from behind and forced their skulls into one another. Mowgli then ran and jumped onto the throats of the monsters he had knocked down previously. He jumped and spun around in the air to face another monster brandishing a sword. He threw his head against the monster's. The monster stumbled back and was impaled on a tree branch.

A monster lunged at Quatermain, its sharp fingernails poised like talons on a falcon coming in for a kill. Quatermain stood to the side and wrapped his arms around the monster's waist. He hoisted the monster up to above his head and then dropped it.

Quatermain then walked over to Mowgli and stood by his side. They looked forward as three more monsters approached them with battle axes.

Quatermain raised his fists to fight, but he realized that if the blades fell his hands would do him no good. Quatermain braced himself and prepared to die with dignity. Yet as the blades fell his reflexes worked and he flinched.

A giant tree branch hoisted itself with a grunt into the air and flew into the heads of all three monsters, knocking them off balance. The blade of a battle axe landed right next to Quatermain's shoes.

Quatermain looked over at Mowgli and noticed he was unharmed as well. He then looked at the air above the unconscious brutes with their axes.

"Easy there, Mr. Q.," said a familiar voice. "You'll get blood all over this beautiful beach."

Even Mowgli smiled at the sound of the voice.

"Skinner!" said Quatermain. "I thought those brutes had you!"

"Ol' Skinner? By gosh!" said the invisible man. "It takes a lot more than that to get my hyde. The beasts couldn't find me during the fight. I saw you fall down into the ravine, and I saw the monkey boy climb after you, but when I tried to follow, alas, the hill was too steep, and I was forced to seek an alternative route."

Quatermain grinned. He would have shaken the invisible man's hand if he could see it.

"What now, boss?" asked Skinner. "Do we knock, or should we just let ourselves in?"

Suddenly, a shadow fell over Quatermain. He recognized the shape of another battle axe.

The blade began to swing, but it stopped to the sound of a ferocious growl. A blur of black fur came from the opposite direction and knocked the monster to the ground.

Mowgli ran up and petted the black panther.

"Bagheera!" he said.

**A/N – _To be continued, as always. Please _continue_ to R&R._**


	15. The Battle

_Disclaimer: I own no rights whatsoever to the titles and trademarks herein._

**Sawyer Fan & LotRseer3350 – _Thank you for continuing to read and review this. Wonder what's become of my other reviewers…?_**

_**Anyway…**_

A single experiment walked down an abandoned corridor of Frankenstein's laboratory building. He lingered in the hallway as he realized how alone he was. He knew his job was to obey his master's wishes. His master's wish was that no outsiders would make their way into the fortress.

No outsiders were present. No outsiders had ever been present, except when the other experiments brought one in. This experiment was intelligent enough to know that he need not be afraid of anything as long as he was alone. And he was just intelligent enough to figure he deserved a break.

Everything seemed blissfully peaceful.

Then a ball of black fur shot up before the experiment's eyes and he found himself lying on his back.

Bagheera stepped over the body and darted around another corner. The panther's padded feet provided both speed and stealth until Mowgli tugged its hair and signaled Bagheera to stop.

"Skinner," whispered Quatermain as he dismounted the panther. "You and Mowgli split up and try to find the others."

"What about you?" Skinner whispered back.

"I'm going after the bleeding monster that's really behind all this."

Quatermain watched Bagheera bound down a corridor to his left with Mowgli clutching tightly on his fur. He could only assume Skinner was running in the opposite direction. He waited until the panther and the boy were out of sight before darting forward.

> > > > > >

Victor Frankenstein kept his penetrating eyes fixed on the wall of his lab as one of his latest experiments addressed the back of his head.

"I have a message from the outer sentry, sire," reported the experiment. "Outsiders fought their way through. They injured some of the weaker guards. One of them matches the description of Allan Quatermain."

Frankenstein quickly turned and focused the beam of his penetrating stare on the messenger, who immediately began to tremble.

"I warned him!" cried Frankenstein. He turned to the monsters around him. "Spread out. I don't want to see any of you back in here until all intruders are dead." He paused and the anger on his face was replaced by a crooked smile. "And bring out the lady vampire and kill her as well. I've said enough that all guests to my island will abide by my rules or face the consequences!"

The monsters around Frankenstein filed towards the door. The monster who had spoken tried to exit as well, but a grunt and a gesture from Frankenstein signaled him to stay.

After the other monsters were gone, Frankenstein leaned against a lever protruding from a nearby panel. It took little effort for the strong young science student to toggle the switch, causing a huge device overhead to creak and slowly pivot and descend.

"I warned you, too," said Frankenstein, looking at the monster. His smile faded and the monster continued to tremble.

Frankenstein toggled another switch and a volt of lightning thundered from the above device. The monster erupted into a cloud of smoke and a flame of fire. Frankenstein pulled the switch again and the monster fell into a blackened pile on the concrete floor.

Frankenstein stepped towards the charred remains of his experiment.

"I have some regrets about that," he said. "You were one of my most promising experiments."

"Then you shouldn't have killed the messenger." The voice echoed off the walls and slabs and strange devices throughout the massive laboratory. Frankenstein spun around as Allan Quatermain emerged from behind a larger than life statue of Benjamin Franklin.

"You must be Allan Quatermain."

"And you're Victor Frankenstein, I assume?"

"That's Dr. Frankenstein to you, Mr. Quatermain."

"You're no doctor."

"That's exactly what your friend Jekyll said."

Quatermain quickly drew his twin revolvers and aimed them at Frankenstein. Even as he was reaching for the gun, Frankenstein was raising his hands in the air.

"You'll come with me peacefully and show me where your other prisoners are, or I'll shoot you right now."

Frankenstein just smiled disarmingly. He then threw himself to the side. A bullet struck just over his shoulder, ricocheting off the panel behind him. Frankenstein grabbed two levers as he fell. The device overhead quickly swung and emitted beams of pulsating electricity. Quatermain dropped to his stomach and rolled under the beams just as one would have sliced through his gut.

Frankenstein squatted just high enough to throw one of the levers back up and cause the mechanism to swivel again. Quatermain rolled the opposite direction and again safely avoided death.

Quatermain leapt to his feet and fired from both barrels. Frankenstein dove away from the control panel and ran around a large machine before the guns could fire.

Quatermain moved forward as Frankenstein came around the corner of the machine. The first bullet took Frankenstein by surprise, but it missed and rattled off the large metal cylinder behind the scientist instead. Frankenstein ducked just as the second bullet flew over his head.

Frankenstein pulled a lever on a different panel. This time, metal walls swung open all around the laboratory revealing an armory of guns, knives, swords, and axes.

Frankenstein cackled maniacally and smiled vengefully as he removed a rifle from the wall. Now it was Quatermain's turn to duck as Frankenstein laughed and fired shot after shot at Quatermain.

Quatermain ran and managed to hide behind a concrete slab, where he proceeded to return fire.

When the last shot had been fired from both revolvers, Quatermain cursed and threw both guns to the ground. A returning clatter told Quatermain that Frankenstein's rifle had met the same fate.

Quatermain stood up and watched as Frankenstein wrenched a saber from the wall. Quatermain turned to the wall behind him. He considered removing a battle axe in order to end the fight quickly, but he then remembered his duel with the infamous Professor Moriarty. He quickly grabbed a weapon similar to Frankenstein's and turned to face his opponent.

> > > > > >

Meanwhile, Mina Harker swung her head to the left and to the right, trying to close her fangs in on someone, anyone. But the monsters that carried her by the arms and legs were spread out beyond her reach. They dropped her to the ground, causing her even more discomfort, and then they quickly surrounded her and pinned her down.

Two monsters stepped forward holding wooden stakes. Mina snarled at them, but they both just smiled back.

Quasimodo ran up behind the monsters.

"Waa-aa-a-iiittt! St-o-o-o-o-opppp!" he cried.

The monsters turned puzzled expressions towards the hunchback, but then turned back to Mina and continued to smile viciously.

"Doo-oo-o-nnnn't huuuuurrrrrrrt-t-t heerrrrrrr!" screamed Quasimodo. The monsters raised the stakes above their heads. Quasimodo grabbed both of the monsters by the necks and began to squeeze. The other monsters paused, released their grip on Mina, and looked up to watch. Quasimodo squeezed with all of his might. A portion of each monster's neck crumbled into dust and the monsters fell in piles on the ground. The other monsters stood up and ran away, making shrieking noises as they left.

> > > > > >

Sparks flew through the air as sabers collided and scraped against one another. Frankenstein stepped back and thrust his saber forward. Quatermain parried it with his and pushed the blade up into the air. He then thrusted forward himself. Frankenstein jumped back and struck his blade against Quatermain's. The elderly Quatermain lost balance and fell to the ground. He swung his body to the side and the blade of Frankenstein's saber hit the concrete beside him. Quatermain threw a kick and struck Frankenstein in the knee. Frankenstein howled in pain and grabbed his injured knee as Quatermain climbed to his feet and ran.

When Frankenstein looked up, Quatermain was climbing a ladder to a catwalk above.

Frankenstein limped to the ladder and began climbing up as Quatermain ran to the other end.

"I expected you to be smarter than this," said Frankenstein. "There's no where for you to go now."

Quatermain turned towards him and poised his sword to attack.

Frankenstein hobbled forward and swung his saber. He deliberately missed Quatermain and instead, grabbing tightly on the railing, he sliced through a cord that was keeping the catwalk suspended. As the catwalk shuddered, Quatermain grabbed for the cord and pulled himself up. Frankenstein tried to take a swipe at Quatermain, but the explorer rocked his body back and forth, swinging the cord back and forth and himself out of Frankenstein's reach as he climbed.

As Quatermain threw himself over the ledge of a higher platform, Frankenstein jumped for the cord. His leg throbbed with agony as he landed. He grunted angrily and limped towards a ladder that would take him to the same level Quatermain was on.

> > > > > >

Tom Sawyer smiled as he was brought lunch. He'd come to look forward to his meals, and he had to wonder who on the island was responsible for the cooking. The cell swung open, and a monster came forward holding a tray full of steaming food. Two other monsters stood by his side. Suddenly, the monster's face fell into the tray of food and then the monster slid to the ground. The other monsters snarled with fury, but their heads then flew against one another and they fell to the ground.

Sawyer looked forward and blinked.

"Quit staring at me like that," said the voice of Rodney Skinner. "It's time to get out of here."

> > > > > >

Quatermain turned and held out his saber and Frankenstein's blade hit against it. Frankenstein raised his blade again, and this time it struck against Quatermain's shoulder. Quatermain cried out and brought his hand to his rapidly bleeding shoulder. Frankenstein thrust his blade forward, and Quatermain thrust his fist out. As Frankenstein stumbled back, Quatermain kicked him in the stomache. When Frankenstein fell to his knees, Quatermain kicked him in the head. When Frankenstein shook the pain away and lifted his head, Quatermain had disappeared.

"You call yourself a doctor," Quatermain's voice echoed across the lab. "Then your creed is to help people."

"I am helping people!" insisted Frankenstein, slowly pivoting in an attempt to discern which direction the voice was coming from.

"By killing them?" asked Quatermain.

"You couldn't possibly understand!" cried Frankenstein. "I've lost the only person I've ever loved!"

"So have I," replied Quatermain. "Several times."

Frankenstein looked up and saw Quatermain tip-toeing across another catwalk above. He slowly made his way to another ladder.

"Then you know what a person would be willing to do to get a loved one back," said Frankenstein. "Scientists have been able to cure all sorts of injuries and sicknesses, but for nothing."

"Why for nothing?" asked Quatermain, ducking behind a device similar to the one that had nearly killed him.

"Because sooner or later, people still die," said Frankenstein. "I'm trying to find a cure for the ultimate disease: death."

Frankenstein slowly climbed rung after rung of the ladder. Quatermain held his breath and became as still as a sleeping tiger.

"When this project is complete, no one will ever need to fear death again," said Frankenstein. "I will have secured life after death!" With that, he took a mighty swing with his saber.

The huge device hiding Quatermain fell to the ground below and crashed with the sound of an explosion, sending chunks of metal and bits of wire flying across the entire lab. One bit of wire hit Frankenstein right between the eyes, causing him to step back and grab his forehead. Quatermain quickly climbed over the railing of the catwalk and threw himself towards the ground, grabbing quickly to another railing below.

When Frankenstein opened his eyes, Quatermain had hidden himself again.

"You plan on stopping death by killing people?" asked Quatermain. "That's ludicrous!"

"I knew you couldn't understand!" yelled Frankenstein. He angrily sliced through another suspension cord, this time towards the middle.

The cord fell and swung like a whip, catching Quatermain on the cheek. The sting caused Quatermain to involuntarily yelp in pain. Frankenstein grinned impishly and began to climb down the ladder to the next catwalk.

"I understand, alright, boy," said Quatermain. "I understand that you fear death."

"Of course I do," said Frankenstein. "It's human nature. Life is all I know. Life is all I understand."

"And we fear what we don't understand," said Quatermain.

"Exactly," said Frankenstein.

"Look at what you're doing," said Quatermain. "You aren't giving these people life. You're taking it away. You're ruining what they have left."

"What do they have left?" demanded Frankenstein.

"Death," Quatermain replied. "Just look at what you've done."

In response, Frankenstein looked down at the charred remains of what had once been one of his faithful servants.

"I've become a monster," said Frankenstein. "But I was just trying to save people."

"You can't fear death, boy," said Quatermain. "You're afraid to see what comes after death. You're afraid because there's no possible way of knowing for sure until you get there."

Frankenstein nodded.

"But death must be accepted as a part of life," continued Quatermain. "Only by dying can a man achieve his true destiny."

"What is man's true destiny?" asked Frankenstein.

"Whatever comes after death," said Quatermain. "But we can only reach that when our time is right. When your time comes, I can assure you, there is something wonderful after death."

Frankenstein looked up and saw Quatermain looking directly down at him, his eyes full of sincerity and truth.

"Are you sure?" asked Frankenstein.

"I am," said Quatermain. "I know from experience. It just wasn't my time. My destiny is still here."

"Then I think it's time I welcome my destiny," said Frankenstein. He climbed onto the railing of the catwalk and jumped.

After hitting the concrete below, Frankenstein rolled over and looked up at Quatermain. He managed a weak smile, and then he pulled another lever.

"Ten minutes 'til this island self-destructs," said Frankenstein.

Then, with the evil grin still spread across his lips, Frankenstein spit out blood and faced his ultimate fear.


	16. Escaping the Island

_Disclaimer: I own no rights whatsoever to the titles and trademarks herein._

Heavy footsteps fell like rolling thunder as they thudded across hard concrete. The steps were unsteady, hurried, frantic. No time was wasted. Shortcuts were taken.

Quasimodo knew all of the shortcuts. He had followed his master down the stone hallways many times. Never before had he questioned the authority of his master and father figure. Now was different. Quasimodo was beginning to realize that there was more to his existence than what Frankenstein had led him to believe. He was beginning to realize that the time had come to think for himself.

The hunchback was still thinking this as he flung Mina Harker around corners, crashed through former colleagues that got in his way, and finally made his way down a wide corridor to a heavy door.

Mina watched as Quasimodo removed a ring of keys from his robe. As soon as they stopped rattling, the heavy door swung open and crashed against the stone wall beside it.

Quasimodo and Mina both turned puzzled glances at the open doorway for a moment.

Then a giant orange arm extended out of the darkness and grasped the hunchback by the throat.

> > > > > >

"Ten minutes 'til this island self-destructs," Frankenstein had said.

Maybe Frankenstein hadn't been giving Quatermain a precise time. Maybe there were at least fifteen minutes left until the mysterious island, or at least Frankenstein's laboratory and everything in the vicinity, was blown apart and everyone there was killed.

After all, Frankenstein had been delirious.

After Frankenstein had pulled a lever, Quatermain had seen a flash and heard a sound. Frankenstein had somehow started a contraption filled with TNT.

It was best to assume that he had only ten minutes.

Or less.

Quatermain climbed down the ladder from his high platform, skipping rungs whenever he could. At one point, he slipped, fell two and a half feet, and was able to grab hold of a lower rung, swinging himself with force back into the ladder and rattling everything inside of him.

Quatermain landed beside the body of Victor Frankenstein. The corpse was still smiling, but the streams of blood drying on both sides of the dead man's mouth formed a tragic frown. Quatermain looked up and stepped over the body.

A huge flame danced in the center of the floor, caused by the destruction of the device that had fallen from the sky. Quatermain considered his options. There was plenty of room to walk around the flames. It would certainly be safer. Despite the words he had spoken to Frankenstein, Quatermain felt an overpowering will to live.

But there was no time to move around. Quatermain braced himself and plunged through the fire.

> > > > > >

Edward Hyde grabbed Quasimodo's neck and lifted the hunchback off the ground. He watched the eyes of his enemy widen in terror as he saw Hyde's monstrous form. He squeezed with all the force of all of Henry Jekyll's rage. All he knew was that this man whose meaningless life he held in his hand was a representative of the man who had brought him to this hellish place. The man who had tortured him and, worse still, the man who had tortured those Jekyll considered friends.

The pathetic creature tried in vain to grab the gigantous hands that were choking him. Foolish of him. He was no match for the towering form of Mr. Hyde!

"Henry, don't!" cried Mina.

"My name isn't Henry!" roared Hyde. Quasimodo squirmed and moaned as Hyde's monstrous breath warmed his face. "It's Edward! Edward Hyde!"

"Please, don't!"

Hyde looked at Mina's beautiful face. It only made him more furious. Had this thing he was holding touched this precious flower, this woman his evil heart had melted for? He tightened his grip around Quasimodo's neck. The hunchback's eyes bulged.

"Stop!" screamed Mina, her voice now more forceful than before. "Listen to me, Henry. He helped us! He's a friend!"

Hyde groaned. His brain was throbbing as Henry Jekyll fought inside of it.

"Let him go," said Mina. "You can do it. Just let go."

"He hurt us!" Hyde insisted.

"No he didn't!" Mina insisted.

Hyde breathed heavily, more of his fragrance assailing his hostage. He had power in his hand. His hand which was so tightly clenched held the power of life and death. He could crush his enemy like a bug, or he could show forgiveness. Edward Hyde knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what his better half would do. Would Edward do the same thing?

"Calm down," said Mina. "Everything's alright now. Just let him go."

Hyde sighed. He gently lowered Quasimodo and unclasped his hand, finger by finger.

It wasn't because it was what Dr. Jekyll would do. It was what Mr. Hyde wanted to do.

"Where's Captain Nemo?" Mina asked.

"Aboard the Nautilus," said Hyde. "He contacted his crew with a communicator. Would you like to see?"

> > > > > >

Captain Nemo and his crewmates walked between rows of hideous creatures, all sleeping like innocent children. Nemo's plan had worked. He had gone into Mina's laboratory and found the chemicals he and she had been experimenting with. He was worried that the chemicals might not have the desired effect on the monster's recycled lungs. His fears proved unfounded. Nemo had instructed his entire crew to don their gasmasks, and then they had shattered test tubes full of the experimental solution against the floor of the Nautilus. The knock-out gas was a beautiful success!

Nemo turned the Nautilus in the direction it had come from.

When he received contact with Mina and Hyde, the mighty submarine was already headed towards Frankenstein's docks.

> > > > > >

Quatermain's entire body burned and ached as he ran from the laboratory. He estimated he had five minutes left. Maybe less.

Tom Sawyer was running towards him.

"Allan!" called Sawyer. His eyes lit up as he beheld his surrogate father, injured but alive and well.

Quatermain's eyes showed only fear and concern.

"Get out of here!" yelled Quatermain. "Get as far from here as possible! This whole place is about to blow sky high."

"What about you?" asked Sawyer, stepping closer. Quatermain waved him away.

"I'll meet you outside," said Quatermain. Sawyer began to trot closer once again. Quatermain kept motioning for him to run away. He'd sooner die then allow this boy to decades prematurely. Sawyer continued to ignore the plea Quatermain was giving with his hands and echoing with the concern in his eyes. Suddenly, Sawyer stopped upright and began to crumble to the ground. He was caught and suspended in midair, knocked out and being dragged away by invisible hands.

Quatermain looked around frantically after Sawyer and Skinner had left. He would not follow until he had found the rest of his friends.

There was a loud _boom_! A small explosion brought fragments of the stone ceiling to the ground. Quatermain guessed it was one in a series of larger explosions to come. Creatures were now running in all direction as smoke filled the air and the stone castle was filled with vapors and a general air of pandemonium.

Quatermain tried to shield his eyes and peer through the smoke. The fumes burned his lungs. Quatermain began to slow down and wheeze as he moved. As he began to suffocate, powerful hands lifted him.

He was pulled through the air by the strong arms of Mowgli and the rapid legs of Bagheera.

> > > > > >

The Nautilus had no need for stealth now. It had traveled at full speed to the island. Captain Nemo was pleased to see two rowboats moving towards the ship. Mina Harker and a companion were in one boat. Tom Sawyer was laying down in another, the oars of the ship seeming to row themselves, a sign of Rodney Skinner's presence. Edward Hyde was swimming alongside the boats. He must have shown the others the way.

Nemo met his friends beneath the main hatch as they boarded the Nautilus.

Sawyer began to stir.

"Where's Allan?" he asked weakly. "Where?"

"He said something about the entire place blowing up," said Skinner.

"You saw him?" said Mina. "Why didn't you bring him out of there?"

"Said he'd meet us," said Skinner. "Must have had something to do."

Mina growled. She couldn't see Skinner's face collapse in guilt.

"We'll have to leave him," said Nemo sadly. "It's what he would have wanted us to do."

> > > > > >

The panther stopped at the end of the dock. Quatermain stepped off. As he turned to thank Mowgli, the boy and the panther were galloped off in the other direction. The jungle was where Mowgli belonged. He would disappear as far as he could into that jungle and take his chances there. Quatermain knew there was nothing he could do to stop his friend. He just let him go.

There were only a few boats left, and none of them looked seaworthy. Quatermain didn't take the time to untie one. He threw himself into the water and swam with all of his might.

He could feel the intensity of the explosion behind him.

> > > > > >

The others were more than happy to help Quatermain into the ship. Hyde had calmed himself, and now Dr. Jekyll was happy to look at Quatermain's injuries.

"What about all of them?" asked Sawyer, looking at the sleeping monsters.

Nemo lowered his head sadly.

"We will get as close as we can to the mainland," said Nemo. "Then the Nautilus must be sacrificed."

"Captain!" a crew member called. "Look ahead!"

The white whale was still alive. Moby Dick was looking through the front panel of the Nautilus, and he didn't look happy.

Moby Dick's wide jaws opened, and the ship once again trembled as mighty teeth began to grind through the hull.

"Evacuate the Nautilus," instructed Nemo. "Everyone to the escape pods!"

The crew members marched down the corridor of the ship and pressed buttons on separate panels. Doorways formed in the side of the ship, revealing the large orbs that Nemo called escape pods.

Water was now pouring into the Nautilus. Jekyll slipped and fell to the ground. Mina helped him up and the two ran after Nemo into another pod.

A doorway closed just as Skinner entered after a swarm of Nautilus crewmembers.

As the doorway to the last pod opened, Tom Sawyer was grabbed from behind. One of the monsters had awakened and was taking a hostage.

"You should have listened to our master," the monster hissed. "Now you will die!"

As the monster's arm tightened around Sawyer's throat, Quatermain lunged past them and brought his elbow into the monster's back.

"Get into the pod!" he screamed as the monster released his grip on Sawyer.

Sawyer just watched in terror as Quatermain and the monster wrestled on the floor of the Nautilus.

"Get in the pod!" repeated Quatermain as he stood up and kicked the monster in the face.

Sawyer obeyed. He continued to watch the fight until doors closed before his eyes. It appeared that again Quatermain was sacrificing himself for Sawyer.

Sawyer wouldn't stand for that. He reached for the door control panel inside the pod.

Before Sawyer's fingers could touch the panel, the door opened and Quatermain stumbled in. Quasimodo followed behind.

"Thanks," said Quatermain as he looked into the hunchback's eyes. Quasimodo smiled.

Sawyer prayed as he took hold of the escape pod's controls. Fortunately, Nemo had drilled the entire League on escape procedures several times.

Fifty pods glided swiftly away from the Nautilus as it was brought to the depths of the ocean in the jaws of Moby Dick, along with all of Frankenstein's remaining "experiments."

"Mr. Scrooge is _really_ not going to like this," said Nemo.


	17. Epilogue

_Disclaimer – I own nothing! Nothing!_

Dr. Henry Jekyll looked over his companions in the escape pod as it darted towards Germany. His eyes moved from the brave captain, solemnly manning the escape pod's controls, to the beautiful Mina Harker, lying across the floor, deep asleep. Her breasts gently heaved up and down as she slept. Then Jekyll's eyes moved to his own reflection. The hideous face of Edward Hyde leered back at him.

Jekyll looked away.

"I'm not as wicked as you make me out to be," said Hyde's voice, echoing in every corner of Jekyll's head. "I'm not all dark. I'm looking for the same thing as you: redemption."

Jekyll looked back at his reflection. Again, he saw the image of Hyde.

"You can't ignore me forever, Henry."

"No I can't, Edward," Jekyll whispered.

He knew he couldn't. Hyde was slipping further and further beyond Jekyll's control. He was becoming a greater and greater burden. Hyde lived inside of Jekyll, and from now on, whenever Hyde became angry or frightened, he would come out.

This was the terrible secret Henry Jekyll would have to bare.

> > > > > >

All of the escape pods made it safely to shore. Quatermain looked at the members of his League. As he paced in front of them and nodded his head, he silently praised them for another job well done.

He then reached into his backpack and removed Skinner's hat and coat. The invisible man anxiously accepted them and dressed himself.

"What's become of our jungle friend?" he asked.

"Civilization just wasn't for him," said Quatermain. "Still, I think we should consider him an honorary Extraordinary Gentlemen." He turned to Quasimodo. "Now what should we do with you?"

"I'm afraid his hearing is irreparable," said Jekyll.

"Perhaps that need not be a handicap," said Quatermain. "It could be a gift. I know of a church in France. There's use there for a bell ringer who would be unaffected by loud noise." Quatermain looked at Quasimodo. "How would you like the job?"

> > > > > >

Tom Sawyer felt at complete peace with the world as he walked across Mississippi. He was home again.

In the distance, he could see a small house. In the window, he could see Becky Thatcher.

She was even more beautiful than she had appeared in Tom's dreams. Her fiery red hair had grown softer, both in color and in texture. It fell down her body, accentuating her now matured curves. Since Tom had left her, she had grown from a girl into a woman.

Tom would do what he had promised himself. He'd tell her that he had always loved her.

_Or at least I'll say hi_, he thought as he walked towards the door, whistling as he stepped.

> > > > > >

In a small, dark room, tucked away in a corner of the river Thames, two men sat at a mahogany table. One of the men tugged his hair and shook his head as he looked over a pile of papers.

Ebenezer Scrooge pushed the plans for the Nautilus II aside.

"No, no, no!" he said. "I will not allow it."

Otto Lidenbrock looked at Scrooge.

"In the interest of science, Ebenezer," he suggested.

"I just approved money for repairs on the last Nautilus!" Scrooge groaned.

"Will, you can certainly call this some massive repairs."

"It's a total rebuilding! Do you have any idea how much money this will cost the British government? All of the time and materials it will take to construct? There is simply no room on our budget."

"A necessary evil, Ebenezer," said Lidenbrock as he stood up and walked away.

Scrooge looked at Captain Nemo's blueprints again and resumed tugging his hair and shaking his head.

"Bah humbug!" he moaned.

**A/N – _That's our conclusion. When I started writing this, a little over a year ago, I thought it would be a short story, or maybe a novella. I had no idea it would be as epic of a project as it became._**

_**If this small effort is an epic, it's only thanks to my readers and reviewers. You made this story what it was.**_

**_Thanks to _ThePet, Queerquail, Hikari no Haga, Itha Arrowland, Steakums 13, ****tsukiryoushi,** **_and _Sawyer Fan. _Special thanks to _LotRseer3350_, who has offered encouragement from Chapter 1 to the very end. _**

**_Also thanks to the immortal authors who I've tried to pay tribute to with my story: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, H. Rider Haggard, Mark Twain, H. G. Wells, Jules Verne, Bram Stoker, Robert Louis Stevenson, Mary Shelly, Victor Hugo, Herman Mellville, Rudyard Kipling, and Charles Dickens. _**

**_Thanks again for reading, and I hope this may have inspired you to read (or reread) a few of the classics. Feel free to R & R and let me know what you think of the finished product!_**


End file.
